The Games You Play
by Slashflex
Summary: World of Warcraft brought us together, the 5 of us. It did! My name's Dahlia, by the way. How'd our meeting go, you ask? Well...I get into trouble. I cause drama. I'm stuck in drama. And it's mostly by accident. If you're interested in the specifics, just click the button. You know you want to. (OC/Kenny)(OC/Stan) Rated M for language and sexual themes.
1. Chapter 1

Hey, guys! I'm back from a 4-year hiatus with brand new stuff. Hope you enjoy this! I tend to switch points of view every chapter or so, so hopefully you don't mind that. Also, I'm gonna add the disclaimer that I don't own South Park.

* * *

.Kyle's Point of View.

"Look, dudes," I began as the 4 of us arrived at the Denver airport and got out of the car. "Be cool. She's staying the summer with me and I'd really like it if you could be decent. Okay?" I looked pointedly at Kenny, before giving a piercing glare at the fatass sitting right beside him. "I don't want to scare her off."

"We're cool," Kenny said with a smooth grin at me before throwing an arm over my shoulders. "You know I'll treat her right." He laughed when I threw his arm off, getting his meaning.

"No, Kenny," I said with a frown. That guy would sleep with anyone, wouldn't he?

"So, why exactly is she here, dude?" Stan asked.

"She wanted to come visit all of us and meet us in person, so we made plans for her to stay with me the summer," I answered with a shrug. "So I got the okay from my parents and she bought a plane ticket."

"Sweet," Stan said. "I'm surprised they're letting a girl spend the summer with you."

"She's staying in the guest room," I said. "That was the only agreement, even though I don't think my parents really care too much. I don't usually have girls over." I shrugged again. "Still though, you're right-I'm surprised my mom's so cool with it."

"I think they're just glad to finally know for sure you're not queer," Kenny said, nudging me in the side. That little grin on his face was really rubbing me the wrong way.

I glared at him, deciding that I would save myself some embarrassment and not reply to his comment. "Anyways, we should probably head to the terminal. She should be getting her luggage right about now." I snuck a look at Cartman as we began walking into the terminal. He wasn't acting normal, and I vaguely wondered what was going on. He was always ripping on people, 99% of the time, but was strangely-suspiciously-quiet today.

"So, do you know what Dahlia looks like?" Stan asked me, taking off his red-and-blue hat to run his fingers through his black hair. He put the hat back on, looking at me. "She's only got like, one picture on Facebook. And that's not even of her face."

"Yeah," I said, pulling out my phone. Dahlia Manning (the girl I was picking up) and I texted every day, and she'd sent me a few photos so that I'd know what she looked like. She'd confided in me once before about not really trusting her pictures on the internet-she knew a few people personally that had their pictures stolen(and naturally that made her paranoid, not that I blamed her). I flipped through my gallery, to find one of her face to show the guys. "Here, this is what she looks like." I passed my phone around.

"She's a ginger?!" Cartman demanded, holding the phone merely inches from his nose. "You fucking Jew faggot, she's a ginger." He slammed my phone down in my hand, clearly enraged at the fact that the girl that was going to be spending the summer at my house had red hair.

"What the hell is the problem?" I demanded, glaring at him.

"She's a ginger, that's the fucking problem," he said with an equally menacing glare. "We don't need _two_ gingers in the group."

"Quit being so petty, fatass," I ground out through bared teeth. "I thought you grew up." He just flipped me off, flopping down in a seat and taking his phone from his pocket. I rolled my eyes. Even being 18, Cartman still acted like he did when we were kids. He would never change, and we had all pretty much gotten used to him by now. Clearly.

"She's pretty cute," Kenny said with a nod of approval. "For once, the hot voice matches the face."

I chuckled at that, scanning the crowd for someone matching her description. After a long while of not seeing her, I decided to check my messages. Maybe the flight had a delay and I'd missed her message…

"Hey, guys," I heard a familiar voice say, and looked over to see a short redhead making her way over to where we stood. She had multiple piercings (bridge, 3 lip, multiple ear, and was there one in her eyebrow?) and a cute smile on her face. "Stan, right?" She looked up at him and put out her hand to shake. "Nice to meet you. I'm Dahlia. You know, the bitch you play WoW with." She winked at him.

"Hey," he said. "And yeah, I'm Stan."

She looked at Kenny, who grinned at her. "I'm Kenny. And lardo in the chair is Cartman." He pointed at the brunette, making her giggle.

"Gotcha. And Kyle, it's nice to finally meet you in person," she said, throwing her arms around me in a quick hug. "Now I have a face to put with the voice and the texts. Well, a real face. Pictures don't do you justice, my friend."

"Ah, yeah," I said with a grin, and likely a blush. "How was the flight?"

"Long," she said, rolling her eyes. "It took for-fucking-ever to get here. Probably since I had to get up at 3:00 this morning. I'm pooped."

I laughed as we all headed out of the terminal, to my car. "I'm glad you made it alright. Are you hungry, at all? It's going to take a while to get back home, so if you want to we can stop somewhere to eat."

"Whatever you guys want to do," She said with a grin. "I'm just along for the ride. Besides, you live around here so you know all the best places to stop."

"Let's go to Raisins," Kenny offered from his seat in the back and I could hear the smile in his voice.

"No way dude, there's a girl with us." I shot back at the blond. "And it's about an hour away."

"Yeah Kenny, that's rude," Stan said in my favor. At least he was on my side in this. ...Or maybe that was just because Wendy would bitch him out if she caught wind he was there. Now that I thought about it, I was convinced that was the _real_ reason.

Dahlia looked at me, cocking her head to the side. "What's Raisins?"

I rolled my eyes and looked in the rearview mirror at Kenny (who was, of course, still smiling-he knew he'd won). He nodded with a thumbs up at me and I began to talk. "You don't want to go there Dahlia, it's lame."

His shoulders slumped before he and Cartman let out a moan, clearly wanting to go and didn't giving two shits about courtesy. "It's the best place to get wings around here. God, you stupid Jew," Cartman spat. "You ruin everything."

Dahlia snickered, "Oh, let's go then. I love wings."

A facepalm was never more appropriate. I was going to kill Kenny as soon as we got out of this fucking car. For now all I could do was mentally kick myself and try to get her to change her mind. "You sure? I mean there's burger joints and Chinese too. Wouldn't you rather have something like that?"

"Kyle..." She leaned in, raising her brow at me, a sly look on her face. "All of you are making a big deal about this place so I want to go and check it out. You can try and persuade me all you want, but it's not going to work."

Kenny burst out laughing at my expression. Oh, yeah. He was going to be _wearing_ my foot up his ass. "Well, Dahlia…" I started, chewing my lip a little. "Raisins is just a smaller version of Hooters."

"So the girls have small tits?" She asked, widening her eyes to look innocent. Nevermind that she raised her hands to cup her own breasts and I knew my face had to have been at least a dark pink. Kenny and Cartman roared in laughter, and even Stan had to snort, though he was the only one nice enough to cover it with a cough. "Not that I _mind_ , really, cause whether there's boobs involved or not, I still like wings." She shrugged with a wave of her hand. "I think majority rules in this case." The hands went into the pockets of her hoodie as my own shoulders slumped and I avoided her gaze.

I sighed. "Okay, okay, fine. You win."

Kenny cheered, high-fiving the fatass and reaching over the seat to clap Dahlia on the shoulder.

"Alright!" Cartman crowed as we pulled into the parking lot of Raisins, about an hour or so later. "Spicy 5-sauce wings here I come."

"Don't tell me you're going to do that stupid challenge again, Cartman." Stan rolled his eyes. "You always eat too much and spend the rest of the day bitching."

"Of course I am, Stan. I'm the champion. I have to keep my flawless record." He liked to throw that in everyone's face. He does it every year and has been the title holder for going on 6 years now. He's only been challenged once, and since completely crushing the opponent, hasn't been asked again. Not that anyone in their right mind _would_.

"Challenge?" Dahlia asked, looking at all of us then settling her eyes on Stan, instead of me this time.

"Yes. They hold a contest every year. It's to see who can eat the most wings in 20 minutes or under, depending on who hurls first. The spicy 5-sauce wings are the hottest ones they have. I can barely eat 3 without getting a runny nose. Cartman here, has the record for eating 50 wings. That's the most anyone's ever eaten and in such a short time. He's the only one brave enough to do that fucking challenge."

"What do you get for breaking the record?" Dahlia asked, seeming truly curious and somewhat interested in said challenge. I looked at her in a little surprise. She wasn't _really_ going to, was she..?

Cartman held his stomach as he burst into laughter. "Why do _you_ care? It's not like you can beat me."

"What makes you think I can't, Cartman?" She furrowed her eyebrows and poked him in the chest.

He narrowed his eyes at her. "You're a girl. A little one." He completed his statement by opening his thumb and index finger about an inch apart.

"And?" Her words were practically dripping with anger and frustration.

"Girls can't beat guys. Girls aren't good at anything. And besides, you're a ginger. Gingers suck."

I watched as the two of them fought. Dahlia's face turned bright red, her eyes narrowing, and she was gritting her teeth. There was no mistaking it. She was pissed. I put a hand on her shoulder. "Hey, don't worry about it."

"Oh, no, Kyle. I'm past that point. He's going to eat his fucking words," she said, as one of the Raisins girls came to seat us. When we all got settled and ordered our drinks, Dahlia flipped through the menu, her eyes moving non-stop until she found what she wanted. "That's it. I'm gonna challenge you to an eat-off, fatass. I think I can take you."

"Shiiiiit," he said with an arrogant smirk at her. "I'll bet you can't handle 5 of 'em."

"In 20 minutes? You're out of your fucking mind," She said, the challenge definitely showing in her bright green eyes. "No, I'm pretty sure I can beat your stupid ass. You eat 50, I'll eat 51. No matter how much you shove in that big mouth of yours, I am _going_ to one-up you." She grinned then. "I'm good at eating."

"How about this—if you beat me, but you throw up, you lose and have to pay for all our food. _And_ I can rip on you the entire time you're here. If I lose—which I won't, I can't lose to a fucking _girl_ —I'll have to pay for everything," he said. He held out a hand for her to shake. "Deal?"

"You're on, tubby," she said, shaking his hand. "Prepare to lose."

"There's no way in hell I'd lose to you," he snapped back, preparing to attack the waitress with his order. Once she came back, he grinned. "You know what I always order."

"Sure, cutie," she said, flipping her black hair over her shoulder. She looked at me and smiled, putting a hand on my back. "What would you like?" I coughed a bit, before smiling at her and ordering a Chicken sandwich with a side of fries. Stan laughed, ordering the same thing as me. Kenny pretty much echoed our order. "Okay, sweeties. And you, miss?" She smiled cutely at Dahlia, who merely smirked and handed her the menu.

"I think I'll do the challenge as well," she said. "Just give me lots of milk and napkins."

"Are you sure, sweetie?" She asked, eyes wide. "Nobody's _ever_ beat him before, and you don't really look like you could. I mean, it would be _amazing_ if you could but you can't possibly eat that much with the figure you have. 50 wings would make you explode, like, all over the place!" She waved her arms, and Dahlia just laughed, assuring everyone she'd be perfectly fine, she'd done something like this before. "Okay, sweetie, if you're totally sure, then I can bring them out to you."

"Aw, honey, I'm more than sure," she said with a syrupy sweet grin at Cartman. "I've taken on bigger losers where I come from. I won't even break a sweat."

"That's big talk coming from a stupid ginger bitch," Cartman said with a grin of his own. "You can't do it!"

"Oh, bless your heart," She said with a smile, blowing a kiss at him (I still wasn't quite sure what that _meant_ but apparently that was a pretty big insult in the south). She didn't seem as angry now, but I knew that she had something up her sleeve to take on a fatass motherfucker like Cartman. I could only watch and see what happened.

Fifteen minutes later, both Cartman and Dahlia were covered up to their elbows in hot wing sauce, with a pile of wing bones sitting in front of each of them. Dahlia didn't have nearly as much sauce smeared around her mouth, since she wiped it off and took a swig of milk after each wing she ate. Her face nearly matched her hair, and she occasionally sniffled, but continued to eat. I had to give it to her—the girl could definitely pack it away. There was no telling where she was putting it, but she ate a shit ton of hot wings—keeping up with Cartman the entire time. He was only ahead by maybe a half, but she was either catching up fast, or the fatass was slowing down. Either way, he didn't look like he'd be eating much more at all. I noticed that he began to pale a little bit, even though most of his face was as red as Dahlia's.

She paused for a second to look at him. "You're not looking so good, tubby."

"Shut up, bitch," he wheezed, attempting to eat one last one before the time ran out. He raised it to his mouth, wrinkling his nose slightly—just enough for me to notice, I wasn't sure about anyone else—before biting into it. As he did, he gagged, before turning and heaving every single one of the wings he'd eaten into the wastebasket beside him.

"Awww, duuuude," Stan groaned, looking away. His face had a little tinge of green to it, as well. Stan had never done well around sickness, and now was no exception. He would probably have thrown up too, if it hadn't been for the loud cheers of the restaurant covering up the sound of Cartman's vomiting. "Well, I guess Dahlia wins this one."

"Fuck you, fatass, I told you I could do it, and guess what? I'm not the one puking now, am I?!" She laughed in delight. "And on top of _not_ puking, I ate 52 to your 51. So…Fuck." She flipped him off with one hand. "You." She then flipped him off with the other hand. "Kiss. My. Ass." The only response he could manage while throwing up was to flip her off. She merely laughed, chugging the rest of her milk.

"Like, Oh, my God, sweetie, that was so cool! No one has ever beat him before, especially at eating!" our waitress, named Porsche, exclaimed, a grin across her face.

Dahlia laughed again, winking at Porsche. "I told you not to worry, didn't I…?" She then stood, asking Porsche to follow her to the bathroom, so she didn't get sauce all over the place while she washed her hands. Porsche followed, happily chattering to Dahlia along the way.

"Goddamn, she just gets better and better!" Kenny said with a wide grin at me. "She's a beast! And if she's anything like that in bed…" He let the sentence trail, winking slyly at me.

I glared at him and looked down, feeling my face turn hot. Kenny always picked on me for my behavior around females. Not that I was shy, exactly…I just tended to get tongue tied in front of pretty girls and make a complete fool out of myself. The one who really didn't care about that was Bebe Stevens, a girl who had been obsessed with my ass since the fourth grade. "Dude, I am not sleeping with her."

Kenny shrugged innocently. "I never said _you_ had to, now did I?"

I narrowed my eyes at him as I snatched a french fry off my plate. "No, but you're implying that someone is going to. I'm not doing it. I don't care how badly you want me to get laid."

He laughed. "Suit yourself." At that he took a fry off his plate and nodded toward the bathrooms. "Here she comes now."

"I'm not ask—"

"That's much better," Dahlia sighed as she sat down. She stretched her arms out, smiling. "I no longer look like I bathed in hot sauce." She wrinkled her nose. "Even if I do happen to smell like it."

"I don't know how much of a compliment this is but I think you smell pretty damn good," Kenny grinned at her. _I have to give it to him._ I thought. _That was pretty smooth._

She raised an eyebrow at him. "If you say so." Her face cracked into a wide smile and she laughed. "But I'll take the compliment." She leaned her head back against the top of the chair, holding her stomach and taking a deep breath. "I'm so fucking full…If I don't see another chicken wing for the next 6 months, it will be just fine with me."

I chuckled at her and she looked at me. "Dude, I still can't believe you beat him."

She laughed. "I'd flex but I'm afraid that if I move I'll explode," she said, making us laugh.

Stan tossed a disgusted glance at Cartman, who was still leaned over the wastebasket. He wasn't puking anymore, just the occasional spit, but he still didn't look too good. I snickered. Stupid fatass got what was coming to him.

After a few moments of chatting and letting the food settle, Dahlia sighed and smiled at us, stretching. "Well that was certainly fun…"She winked at me. "Promises for a good summer, I suppose."

I nodded, grinning back at her. "Yeah," I said. I couldn't think of anything else to tack on after that, so I paused, cleared my throat, and looked at the rest of the group. "So…got anything else you want to do after we leave here?"

Stan looked like he wanted to say something before being interrupted by his phone vibrating. He looked at it and sighed. "You're gonna have to drop me off at Wendy's, dude. She's pretty insistent that I come over." He gave Dahlia a sheepish look. "Sorry I have to bail so soon."

She held up a hand. "No problem. I'm here all summer, and I doubt your girlfriend would want you blowing her off for another woman." She smiled. "There's plenty of time for us all to get to know each other."

I could almost see Kenny's knowing grin aimed in my direction, along with a sly wink Dahlia was not supposed to see. Get to know each other…right. I knew exactly what was running through the blond's head-I'm not going to say he was _always_ this lecherous, but generally if there was a hot girl in the vicinity, he was hellbent on getting said girl in bed with me. I knew he was going to try doubly hard since she was staying at my place. I nearly grimaced at the thought, but decided against making any faces. I decided to nod in response to her instead.

"You're right," Kenny said, standing from the table as we all got ready to go. Cartman took the longest, slowly getting up from his chair and waddling to the front of the restaurant to pay.

Dahlia leaned close to me, watching Cartman walk away. "I think fat boy overdid it, yeah?"

I nodded. "Serves him right," I muttered to her, making her laugh.

"He'll be alright," Kenny said, casually draping an arm over her shoulders. His blue eyes twinkled as he looked at her. "It's not the first time he's done this, and it sure as hell won't be the last." He laughed. "Don't worry about him."

"If you say so," she said, looking up at him, since he had quite a few inches on her. "Even though it doesn't look like we'll be the best of friends, I do feel kind of sorry for him." She snickered then. "Then again, it _did_ get us free food, so I guess I don't feel _that_ bad. Maybe if he was less of a dick."

Kenny and I laughed. "Good point," he said to her as Cartman came back. I didn't miss the dirty look he shot both the blond and the redhead as he headed toward the door we came in, and neither did they, judging by the way Dahlia snickered again. We followed him out, Stan right behind us. From his silence, he was either texting Wendy or getting ready to.

We piled in the car, Kenny and Cartman in the backseat, with Stan, Dahlia and I up front—part of me dared to think she wanted to stay close to me because she liked me, but the other, more rational part of me thought that was a silly thing to think and it was merely because I had talked to her more than the others and of _course_ she'd feel better closer to me because we were friends and she _knew_ me-nothing more. That was it. It was better to think that I was friendzoned already so I wouldn't accidentally crush on her and get hurt… God, I wanted to punch myself in the face. This was so goddamn pathetic.

After a moment of silent driving as I pulled out of the restaurant parking lot, I searched for something to say. I felt a little awkward, even though this was Dahlia we were chilling with, the same girl I'd played World of Warcraft with for the past couple of years. The only difference between this and playing online is that her toon's attractiveness could not hold a candle to the real thing, sitting right beside me, lightly brushing my arm with hers… _Whoa, dude, calm down_ , I told myself. _This is not the time to embarrass yourself. Not on the first day._

Cartman let out a pitiful groan, which we all ignored.

I could see Dahlia fiddling with something out of the corner of my eye and snuck a peek. It was the strings to her black and pink hoodie. Maybe she felt as awkward as the rest of us? I looked at Kenny in the rearview, just to discover that he was looking thoughtfully out the window.

"Dude, you gonna be okay?" asked Kenny softly, and my eyes flicked upwards once more. He was looking at Cartman in concern. The only response was another groan and Kenny made a face. "Yo, Kyle…you may need to stop by the store. He's not lookin' so hot."

I saw Stan's face pale slightly, noticing he looked a little green in the face. He looked at me and nodded, and I knew what he was thinking. If Cartman didn't get any meds, there would be two messes for me to clean out of my car, possibly more if Dahlia was a sympathy puker. I flipped the blinker on, pulling into the grocery store parking lot, and we got out of the car quickly. Cartman took a few deep breaths, and Dahlia went to him, her hand on his arm. She talked to him quietly—I wasn't able to hear anything she said, but I figured everything was alright when she smiled and patted his shoulder, and he didn't make an attempt to push her away. She looked up at me. "So. We gonna go in?"

I nodded. "Yeah." My eyes searched the parking lot for a split second, and finding the car I was searching for, I grinned. "Butters is working today. You wanted to meet him too, didn't you?"

She grinned widely. "Of course!"

Her smile was infectious, so I grinned with her and led her in the store. She searched a moment or two, and upon hearing his voice, looked at me in question. I merely nodded at her before she took off at full speed and nearly launched herself at him. "Hey!" I heard her say cheerily.

"W-well, hiya," he stuttered as I walked up. His face was bright red and he was staring at her in confusion. "D-Do I know you?"

"Well…" She began. "I'm Dahlia, from WoW. So technically, yes, you do know me but this is the first time we're meeting in person." She smiled at him, running her fingers through her hair before holding her hand out to shake. "It's nice to finally meet you. I like being able to put you guys' faces with your voices now."

"Oh!" He said, shaking her hand. "Nice to meet you too, Dahlia! I didn't know you were comin' to visit!" His face was starting to return to the normal color but it was still red. I wanted to laugh at him, knowing exactly how he felt just now. "How long are you stayin'?"

"I'll be here for the summer," she said. "College n' shit…you know how it is. I have to be back home the first of August."

"Oh, okay," he said, nodding. I could feel the awkwardness coming from him, and I knew why. He hadn't yet decided what he wanted to do and sometimes talking about college could be a touchy subject for him due to his parents. His parents were dicks. "Oh, hey Kyle. I didn't see ya there. Are the rest of the fellers with you?"

"Yeah, they have to go get fatass some meds—he ate too much at Raisins again and is puking all over the place." I rolled my eyes. "Dahlia challenged him to an eat off, and he lost."

Butters looked impressed. "Oh wow! Nobody's ever beat him before! How'd ya do it?"

She laughed. "Very carefully, but I definitely won't be doing that again for a while. I haven't eaten that much in years."

"You're not gonna be sick too, are you?" I asked, looking at her. At her look, I laughed. "I was just wondering."

"I'm perfectly fine, thank you," she said haughtily, sticking her nose up in the air. "I'm no lightweight when it comes to food." She looked down at her flat stomach and made a face. "Though I'm sure that I've packed on a few pounds with that little stunt. Ugh."

Kenny walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, leaning down beside her ear. "You are perfect," he said, and I noticed the look in his blue eyes. I could only describe it as a hunger, and he looked like he'd devour her if provided the opportunity. "I wouldn't worry about your weight right now."

Dahlia's eyes got wide as she turned around to look at him. She gasped, coming face to face with him, her nose nearly touching his. "Oh, hi, Kenny," she said, her face nearly as red as her hair. "You scared me."

He laughed, letting her go and running his fingers through his messy blonde hair. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you." He flashed a smile at her before looking at Butters. "Hey, dude."

"Hey, Kenny," Butters said back, looking between the two of them. I could tell he was wondering about the familiarity between them but knowing his personality, he wouldn't ask. Or...he'd ask one of us later on, if he thought about it.

"Wendy's about to get on my last fucking nerve," I heard Stan mutter as he and Cartman walked up behind Kenny. He kept looking at his phone and I could see the look in his dark eyes. Wendy had been especially clingy and whiny for the past couple of months, which is about as long as they'd known about Dahlia coming (I'd known sooner than that but hadn't yet wanted to share). It was almost like she was afraid Stan would leave her for the redhead—even after being assured that Dahlia was no threat at all. She wasn't interested in Stan (well, to be perfectly honest, I wasn't sure she was interested in _any_ of us), but Wendy didn't seem to get that. I had to admit, I felt bad for Stan. "I'm about to tell her to fuck off and leave me be…"

"Do it," Cartman urged. It was always very plain to see how much Cartman disliked Wendy. (I think some of it stemmed from back in the fourth grade when Wendy beat the shit out of him for making fun of a report she did, if I remember correctly. And probably some unreciprocated feelings in there at some point as well.)

Stan looked torn. On one hand, I could see him telling Wendy no, because she'd known about us picking up Dahlia for so long, and on the other I could see him wanting to avoid the inevitable fight that would ensue if he did tell her no. He finally sighed heavily before shoving his phone in his pocket and looking at me. "Don't worry about taking me to Wendy's."

"You sure, dude?" I asked.

"She's bugging the shit out of me. I'm tired of hearing it—all she's going to do if I go over there is ask me stupid questions because she's fucking jealous," he said with a shrug. "So I'm not doing it today."

I nodded. Butters looked around, and upon seeing who I assume was a manager, excused himself to go back to work before he got into trouble. Cartman, Stan and Kenny had already picked up anti-nausea pills, and we went to check out. Dahlia picked a soda up out of the cooler, then looked at the rest of us. "Want one? It's on me." The rest of us took advantage of her offer (though I felt a little guilty doing so, she assured me it was the least she could do and didn't mind at all), and we finished checking out, making our way to the parking lot.

Stan's phone rang loudly, the ringtone obviously belonging to Wendy. He ignored it the first time, but when the second, third time rolled around, he answered it. The rest of us decided to go to the arcade to waste time and money while Stan pretty much argued with his girlfriend. Dahlia looked like she wanted to make a comment but decided against it. It wasn't like Stan never vented about Wendy over TeamSpeak while playing WoW, and she'd had different things to say about Wendy's attitude, but I supposed it was a little different when we were actually in person.

"You're totally sure about blowing her off, Stan?" Dahlia finally asked him. She was quiet about it, a concerned look on her face. "You really don't have to do it on my account."

He nodded. "Yeah."

She let it drop then, and nothing else was said until we arrived at the arcade.

* * *

"Oh, hi, Kyle," my mom said as we walked in the front door. She was in the kitchen fixing dinner, and had the house smelling really great. "And you must be Dahlia."

Dahlia smiled and nodded. "Yes, ma'am. Thank you for letting me stay with you some this summer." Her face was pink, and she hung back a little bit. "I appreciate it so much."

"Well, you're very welcome," my mom said back. "I'm Sheila."

"Nice to meet you," Dahlia bit her lip and inched a little closer to me. We walked to the guest bedroom, carrying her belongings. "Your mom seems nice."

"She has her moments," I said back with a grin. "She's usually okay though."

"I'm really nervous," she said as we got in the bedroom and plopped her bags down in a corner. She sat on the bed and bit her lip. She looked at me, twirling her hair around her finger.

"Why? Nothing to be nervous about," I tried to reassure her. I managed to get a smile out of her. "Besides, if you're scared of my mom, there's no need to be. We probably won't be spending a lot of time here anyways."

"Yeah, I guess you're right. I just…I dunno. I just want to make a good impression, ya know?" She pointed to her bridge and lip piercings. "Also, these."

I nodded. "I know," I said. "Don't worry about it. If my mom doesn't like you, she can kiss my ass." I smiled at her then, and was glad to hear her giggle. "Believe me, I've let her know about those and she promised not to say anything."

"Thanks, Kyle," she said with a brilliant grin. "You always seem to know the right things to say."

I felt my face redden. "I don't know about that…"

Time passed by quickly as we waited on dinner to get fixed, chatting amongst ourselves. She mainly asked about the guys, and I answered, but it was nice to get a one on one conversation with her. It wasn't as if we hadn't talked like this before, but it was so much different in person. I could actually see her face, and watch her body language as she spoke. It probably wasn't a good idea. _I like her so damn much_ , I thought before I caught myself. I was almost relieved to hear my mom call us for dinner…almost.

Dinner that night was a little awkward (at least for me it was), with my parents all but interrogating Dahlia about anything and everything they could think of. I felt sorry for her, but judging by the lighthearted way she laughed and answered everything they wanted to know, I assumed it didn't bother her. After a while, my parents seemed pleased with her responses and they stopped with the invasive questions…or so I had thought. "So, Dahlia," my mom began. "How long have you and my Kyle been dating?"

I could tell the question threw her off—it did me, anyway. She blushed so hard her face looked like a fire engine and I could imagine mine didn't look much different. "Um…well..." She swallowed, looking at me. "We're not exactly dating…just friends."

"Friends with benefits?" My brother Ike asked, raising an eyebrow at me. He had a knowing grin on his face.

"What, what, what?!"Mom's face turned red then, and I'm sure the three of us matched in terms of face color.

"Shut up, Ike," I snapped, kicking my brother under the table. "No, mom, we're just friends. The regular kind of friends."

"Yeah," she agreed. "I'm just one of the guys. I promise." She bit her lip.

"Well, we're not worried about our Kyle starting anything," my mother said, and I wanted to smack her. Did she _really_ think Dahlia would…? After telling me she would try not to say anything embarrassing? _Good fucking job, Mom._

"I can assure you that you don't have to worry about me, Mrs. Broflovski," Dahlia said politely. "I have way too much respect for you guys to do anything that you wouldn't approve of. After all, you are nice enough to let me stay in your house for the duration of my visit."

My mom seemed pretty happy with that response, and the genuine way Dahlia said it, and let the subject drop. After a few more moments of friendly chatting, Dahlia finished her food and excused herself to take a shower. I noticed Ike appreciating her rear as she walked off and I kicked him as hard as I could under the table. He yelped, causing my parents both to give me dirty looks and expecting me to explain myself. Typical Ike, getting me into trouble…

Once the ruckus was settled, I went up to my room to change clothes and find something to do to kill time until I was tired, since I didn't plan to go anywhere else, and I'm sure Dahlia had had her fill of sightseeing and travelling today. It had been a better day than I had expected, especially with Cartman and his sorry-ass attitude. If this was any indication of how the summer was going to go, I was looking forward to whatever it threw our way.

* * *

This story's pretty much complete. I'm adding stuff on the end, but don't worry-I have plenty more before you have to worry about whether or not you'll see the ending. Also, a part 2 is in the works with brand new OC's and brand new ideas. Hope you enjoy!


	2. Chapter 2

I figured I'd go ahead and post Chapter 2 since I didn't have anything else to do. There are 10-ish total chapters. Hope you enjoy it!

* * *

CHAPTER TWO

DAHLIA'S POV

I laid on my side in bed, flipping through the contacts on my phone. I needed to call my mom, just to let her know that I made it here okay, and that I had fun. I was tired, but sighed and decided to call anyway. The conversation lasted a couple of minutes, but it did make me feel better to let her know I was safe. She'd sounded so relieved, and I figured that was worth losing a moment or two of sleep-she was a definite worrier for sure. I smiled to myself. These boys (men? It felt a little weird to say that,even though they _were_ a year older than I was) were really great, and I'd had a blast already. And they were _cute_. I remembered my thoughts when I first saw the pictures of them, and remembered the butterflies I had from talking to them over Skype or teamspeak. Their pictures really didn't do them justice (except for maybe Cartman, the sneers and faces he made were not very attractive at all. I kind of compared him to a pig), and so I had gotten little flutters at first sight in person.

I didn't want to admit it to myself, but I already kinda liked the way Kenny had gotten so close to me so many times today. It wasn't something that happened a lot, and normally I was uncomfortable with close contact, but with him...it was different. I supposed it was because he was so damn hot. The more rational side of me only knew he wanted one thing from me, so I needed to be careful. I was, of course, going to listen to that side-I knew better. However, I knew he was more than just a pervert-we'd talked over TeamSpeak when he'd decided to sub to WoW at my request, and I genuinely liked his personality, though I wasn't quite as close to him.

And Kyle... I ducked my head down and covered my nose and mouth with the blanket to hide my blush and smile (though I was by myself, it was embarrassing). He was adorable, and I really could not thank his parents enough for letting me stay in their house instead of getting a room somewhere. He'd easily become one of my best friends, and now I couldn't imagine not talking to him every day, even if it wasn't but a second or two. He was almost, _almost_ like a boyfriend to me-and he definitely could be, I was interested in him-but we'd both agreed that distance would be too much. Friends was better than nothing, and I didn't want to ruin what we had while I was here. I don't think either of us thought it would change, but it was still a fear we both had.

I felt for Stan, as it seemed his longtime girlfriend was just getting worse and worse with her jealousy issues. It wasn't just with me-it was with everyone, and he had to deal with her bitching day in and day out. I didn't want to flat out tell him to break up with her since it wouldn't be getting any better, but I didn't want to not tell him-I usually just let him vent, and left it. It was no business of mine, and I think she'd resent him for letting me get in the middle of it, since I supposed that I was her main concern right now. After all, even though I knew I wasn't the prettiest thing, I was confident in my looks and now I was hanging out with her boyfriend and his friends-somewhere that she wasn't very welcome. I knew she'd hung out with them in the past, but as she'd gotten older, things had changed, she'd changed, and was no longer accepted. I knew Stan was holding onto what they used to be-I could hear it in his voice and saw it in his eyes earlier in the day. I hated that he was so miserable with her.

Cartman was a huge asshole, but I knew that from the get-go. He'd always been an asshole online, and I knew that he'd hate me automatically for my hair color(which, funnily enough, had never been disclosed to him). He had a thing against redheads, and I was no exception. He'd been okay a few times today, but overall he was himself, and that was pretty much all that needed to be said.

I yawned hugely, looking again at my phone, flipping through some of the pictures I'd taken earlier. They put a smile on my face, making my heart beat a little faster. I had been so excited for this trip I could hardly stand it. My eyes widened at a few pictures I didn't remember taking, and wondered who took them, since they were of me. I supposed it was sometime I laid my phone down. Shrugging, I turned the phone off and put it on the nightstand beside me. A good night's sleep would do some good, since I was exhausted. I was asleep before my head even hit the pillow.

* * *

I wasn't sure what time it was when I woke up, almost didn't remember where I was, all I knew is that I was being kissed, and it was _damn_ good. I leaned into it before I really realized what was going on and when I did, nearly jumped out of my skin. I scrambled back, my back against the headboard, knees up in my chest. I knew I had to look a mess, smudged eyeliner that hadn't washed off when I showered and hair frizzy as all hell. My breath came in short pants due to the panic I felt as I stared up into the eyes of the man who was sitting on the edge of my bed. I couldn't see much, just that he was hooded, and had a mask on the top half of his face. It showed his eyes, but I couldn't tell the color in the darkness of the room. What little of him I could see was outlined in moonlight. I could tell he was slim, tall, but nothing else. He reached a gloved hand out to me, smiling. "Hey, princess," he said, his voice barely a whisper so I couldn't decipher who it was.

I furrowed my brow at him, frowning slightly. "…Kyle?" Honestly, part of me hoped that it was.

He chuckled. "Sorry, but no. I'm not Kyle," he said. He then touched the side of my face softly, running his fingers through my hair and leaning forward to bring the strands to his lips. "You'll find out soon enough, but I'd like to keep it a secret for a little bit longer. It's no fun telling you now—you just got here." He chuckled, looking at me. "How about you just call me Mysterion, until I decide to tell you who I am?"

"Mysterion, huh," I said, looking away from him. "I'll remember that."

He laughed to himself. "You'd better—don't think this is the first and last time I'm coming to see you." He finally let the strands fall through his fingers as he pulled his hand away to crouch in front of me.

"Aren't you afraid of getting caught? Kyle doesn't exactly live alone—you should know that. I'm pretty sure you know him if you know about me," I said. "Especially since I'm convinced I hung out with you today."

He laughed again. "I know. I'm not stupid, Dahlia. I've been doing this a long time."

"I'm not sure I want you visiting me if you've been doing this a long time," I said, frowning again as I backed up a little farther. As if I had the room to, my back was pretty much plastered to the wall at this point. I wouldn't be able to go back any more, so I prayed to God that he wouldn't decide to make a move on me.

He seemed to know what I was thinking, and leaned forward more so our faces were just centimeters apart. Our noses were nearly touching and I could feel his breath on my lips. "You didn't seem to mind a few minutes ago."

I pushed my pillow into his face, effectively knocking him backwards on the bed. I was on my knees above him, and moving the pillow so he could breathe, glared down at him. "You can leave—right now. I didn't come here for sex, so if that's all that's on your mind, you're shit out of luck, Mysterion." I pushed the pillow back down on him before he brushed it away. "And it's kind of offensive that you'd think I'd give in just like that."

"Damn, I'm sorry…" He reached up, pulling me down for a kiss and grinned at me. Well, he certainly didn't _seem_ sorry. His scent was familiar, but I couldn't place which one of the boys it belonged to. Not Cartman, obviously—he was too skinny to be Cartman. I backed off him, because if I was honest with myself, I didn't want to know who it was. He was such a great kisser that if I made a mistake, I didn't want to know who I was making it with… It was better if he left.

"Please go," I said softly, moving so he could get up. "And it would be smart not to come back."

"It would be stupid of me not to come back," he argued good-naturedly, getting up from where he sat on the bed. He walked to the window he'd left open and looked back at me, grinning again. "You seem like the type of girl a sleaze like me would fall in love with."

My eyes shot to his and my mouth opened slightly. I frowned a little, and shook my head. "You don't know that," I said. "I don't know that. I don't even know who you _are._ " I gave him a little grin of my own, though it wasn't quite as warm and playful as his was. "All I know of you so far is that you're a good kisser and you aren't Kyle—but I don't know if _that's_ even true or not. After all, masked men rarely give away their identity at the first meeting."

"You'll know who I am soon enough," he said again, stepping up on the windowsill. These windows in the bedroom were huge—this one even had a window seat. I could imagine curling up with a book to read on a nice day. He blew me a kiss and winked. "Good night, princess."

And he was gone.

I relaxed then, walking to the window to close and lock it, pulling the curtains closed. I sank down to sit on the window seat, looking at my hands in my lap before putting one over my racing heart. I'd certainly never had any experience like that, and if I was perfectly honest—I didn't think I minded as much as I'd made it seem. Something about having a…not-exactly romance with a mystery suitor that wore a hooded shirt and gloves to keep his identity secret was really, _really_ thrilling. More thrilling than I cared to admit. I'd never been the type of girl to rush into bed with _anyone_ , but this one…this one was different. Maybe because we "knew" each other. I'd have to play the guessing game with the boys—Kyle, Stan, Kenny and maybe even Butters—to see who may be Mysterion.

It had the potential to be fun.

It also had the potential to end very, _very_ badly.

I sighed, getting up from the seat and crawling into bed. I was still tired—the excitement woke me up some, but once it was over, I was back to being absolutely exhausted. I turned on and checked my phone for the time—2:57am. I laid down and was back out only seconds later.

* * *

"Who's the poser wearing the tablecloth?"

I looked at the girl in front of me, in disbelief at first before taking offense and raising an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

She looked down her nose at me, violet eyes hidden behind what I can only call mountains of black eyeliner. She reminded me of a raccoon. "Conformist," she said, taking a drag off a cigarette dangling from her black-painted lips. She blew the smoke in my direction and I swatted it away, a scathing insult on the tip of my tongue. _She's lucky I'm in a good mood._

"What is _wrong_ with you?" I managed to grind out. Not exactly what I _wanted_ to say, but I figured it was better than what I had running through my head.

"Calm down, Clover," Kenny said, laying a hand on my shoulder and grinning at her. "She's not from around here. She doesn't know how you Goth kids roll."

"Why did you even come here, Kenny?" She asked him, frowning as she crossed her arms over her chest. "You _know_ we can't stand you bringing your girlfriends around to flaunt in front of us. They're not special little snowflakes, and we don't _care_." She took another drag on the cigarette as a tired-looking guy came up behind her. He had eyeliner smudged beneath his eyes and he looked almost sickly pale. I was sure it was probably a lot of makeup, considering his hands were darker than his face was. He had black curly hair that hid one eye (or looked like it did, he walked hunched over, almost like he was hiding something. Or like he was just _really_ depressed. I kind of pitied him a little bit.) and also had a cigarette between his lips. He looked at both of us coolly as he stuck his hands in his trenchcoat pockets. He didn't seem to notice the tension between the girl and Kenny like I did.

"What do you want, Kenny?" he asked, and sounded like he was just _so damn bored_. I wondered what the hell they were smoking—it couldn't have just been tobacco.

"Just passing through, Michael," the blond replied. "I didn't mean to piss off your girlfriend."

Michael shrugged.

I'd had pretty much enough. They were making me a little anxious anyway, and it was starting to tick me off. I couldn't figure out what their problem was, and planned to ask Kenny when we got out of earshot. I was determined to be as nice as I could when I excused myself, claiming to need to go to the mall for clothes or something. I just needed to get _away_.

He followed close behind me, laughing as he threw an arm around my shoulder. "Sorry about them—they're the Goth kids. They've always been like that."

"They're a bunch of fucking asses, is what they are," I grumbled, looking at him out of the corner of my eye. "Is that how they treat everyone they come in contact with?"

"Clover's not too bad," he said, then frowned slightly. "Then again, I'm probably biased just because she's hot."

I rolled my eyes. "Down, boy," I said. I looked at him. "Why did you even bother to bring me that way if you knew the way they were? Didn't you figure they'd be outside or whatever?"

"They have more than one hangout," he said. "I didn't really expect them to be at that one today—they have this weird rotation thing they do with where they are. I keep up with it most of the time so I can avoid most of 'em, but they switched it up on me." He shrugged. "They didn't kill you this time, so its okay."

"The way you said 'this time' really made me feel a lot better," I said sarcastically.

He laughed, hugging me a little, and winked. "I'm kidding. But they're scary as hell aren't they? Sheesh."

"So, is that—what's her name, Clover?—your ex or something? She's acting like a huge bitch." I frowned and crossed my arms. "My shirt does _not_ look like a goddamn tablecloth."

Kenny laughed. "Nah, I never dated her. Kinda wanted to, cause, look at her! She's fuckin' gorgeous!" At my look he chuckled again. "What's that look for? Jealous?"

"What? No," I said, elbowing him in the side, tossing his arm off my shoulder. "Definitely not. I was just wondering what her problem was. And since she mentioned your women-" He snorted at that, which called for another elbow in his side-"I just figured I'd ask. It's your fault she was picking on me."

He rubbed his side with a grin. "Damn. Well, it never hurt to ask." I felt a hand on my waist and he crept closer to me. He came on strong, didn't he? I felt his breath near my ear and my knees got a little wobbly. "I wouldn't _mind_ if you were a little jealous, ya know..."

I pushed him away. "Cool it, Casanova," I said with a little grin in spite of myself. "You really have a thing for me, don't you? You've always got your hands on me."

He put his hands behind his head and gave me a sideways grin that made my heart skip a few beats. _Damn this weakness for blondes..._ "I'm surprised Kyle's not all over you. It's a good thing you're staying in his house or else you'd be in _real_ danger." He winked at me as he said the last part. "Like, if you stayed at my house."

"Remind me not to spend the night there," I teased.

"Damn, and to think I was just about to ask you," he teased back.

I looked at him, and the thought of asking whether he knew about this "Mysterion" character was on the tip of my tongue. I thought better of it, since if he didn't actually know, I'd feel pretty damn stupid for asking. I couldn't really see it being him, since he seemed more of the type to take kisses in public, not sneak around in private to do it-the man had _no_ shame. It had to be Kyle... "Yeah, no," I said. "I'm gonna stay at Kyle's." I grinned. "But thanks for the offer."

"Offer still stands if you ever change your mind," he said.

I smiled at him. "Thanks." By this time we were at the mall, and he punched the handicapped button for the automatic doors. "So, I actually didn't need to come to the mall. I just wanted to get away from those assholes."

"While we're here, let's grab something to eat. It's on me-I have money today," he said with a grin.

I nodded. "Sure! While we're here, I guess we can waste a little time. Kyle said he had something to do today, anyway, and I really didn't want to be stuck home alone with his little brother. He's a creepy kid." The thought dawned on me and I literally stopped walking. Kenny looked at me curiously and I decided to come out and ask. "So, does Ike have a habit of dressing up and breaking into girls' bedrooms? That you may know of?"

Kenny gave me a funny look. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I haven't told Kyle yet, but someone came into my room last night. I guess it must have been through the window, since it was open when I woke up, but...Yeah. A guy pretty much broke into my room last night and kissed me. End of story." I bit my lip and played with a strand of my hair. "I mean, Ike's okay, but he's just a kid, and I kept noticing the way he looked at me last night at dinner." I shrugged. "I don't know who the guy is but he's really into me, and it's like he knows me."

"Weird," he commented. "You sure you don't wanna stay somewhere else?" He looked concerned, and all traces of jokes were gone. "You know, I wasn't kidding. You can stay with me. I don't want anything happening to you."

"I appreciate it, Kenny, but I'm alright. I'm going to lock the window tonight, so we'll see how that works. If it continues, I'll let Kyle know, but for now, I'm not feeling any danger from the guy. It's just a little weird for him to risk getting caught just for a kiss, you know?" I looked at him. "Flattering, honestly, but a little weird."

"Your call," was all he said. I knew he probably was a little concerned I wasn't telling Kyle right away but why alarm him when all I needed to do to fix the problem was lock the window?

"I know," I said thoughtfully. I looked around the food court, wondering what I was hungry for, then at Kenny. "You pick food. Since you're treating me." I smiled at him. "This is kinda like a date, huh?"

"Are you hinting at something, Dahlia?" He asked, raising an eyebrow at me as he grinned. "Cause that can be arranged."

"I'm good," I said, holding up a hand. "I was just teasing."

"Damn, I'm striking out today. You're knockin' me off my game," he said, running his fingers through his messy hair.

"You usually charm the pants right off all your ladies?" I said, raising a brow at him as we got in line at a little Asian place. His choice, not that I minded.

"You know it," he said back, wiggling his eyebrows at me.

I laughed. "I see. Good for you."

He hooked a finger in one of the back belt loops on my jeans and tugged me toward him. "Now, if you'd only let me charm you out of these, you'd make me the happiest man in South Park. In Colorado, even."

"I don't think so, Romeo," I said, rolling my eyes, but I didn't bother moving his hand. It was kind of nice, kind of fun to have him flirting with me so much. I missed the couple kind of affection—I hadn't been in a relationship in a while, focusing on school and getting into a good college. "I totally cannot afford any kind of romance/drama while I'm here."

"Who said there had to be any romance or drama?"

I gave him a dirty look. "I'm not gonna just jump into bed with you, regardless of being friends. You should know me better than that."

He shrugged innocently. "Was worth a try."

I shook my head with a grin. It was time to order by then, so we made our choices and grabbed a seat, waiting for them to call us letting us know the food was ready. The food court was pretty crowded, so Kenny and I didn't really talk too much during lunch. The rest of the day was generally lazy, popping in stores that looked interesting to me, or if I needed anything I'd forgotten at home (my home-not Kyle's). It was nice to have spent some one-on-one time with Kenny today, although we were supposed to meet Kyle, Stan and Cartman sometime in the afternoon. Of course, none of them showed up, but neither Kenny nor I seemed to notice.

While walking me to Kyle's, Kenny and I got to know each other a little better, chatting amongst ourselves, up until we heard yelling coming from behind one of the houses. I looked at him, thinking it sounded an awful lot like Stan. I decided to keep walking—what he was yelling about was really none of my business, and I was fairly confident I'd know about it anyway. Kenny, however, had a different idea, pulling me behind a building that was close by. He covered my mouth, and pulled my back up against his chest, arm around my waist to hold me still. It was _completely_ unnecessary, and I planned to fuss at him when I was allowed to talk again. He leaned close to my ear. "Be quiet," he whispered. I also needed to fuss at him for always whispering in my ear—the guy did not realize what he was _doing_ to me. Or maybe he did. Jackass.

"Listen to me, Wendy, I am tired of all your fucking jealousy! There is _nothing_ going on between Dahlia and me, and you accusing me of cheating is really pissing me off!" Silence. "Oh, is _that_ how it's gonna be? You're gonna give me a goddamn ultimatum?" Another moment of silence. "If that's how you want it, fine. I'm fucking _done._ Give me my shit and go find someone else to fucking nag, you bitch."

Kenny whistled softly, and I felt a little bit guilty. Not that I had actually _done_ anything, but I didn't like being the cause of their arguments, either. He pulled me back a little bit and we slowly backed away from Stan's voice. Once we got out where we felt safe to talk, Kenny let me go. We looked at each other and I frowned. "I feel like crap," I said softly. "I didn't mean to be the reason they broke up."

He shook his head. "It's been a long time coming. This was pretty much the last straw." He shrugged, looking toward where we'd been and ran his hand through his hair. "Still sucks for Stan, but good fucking riddance."

"She was that bad?"

"You have no idea," He said. "She was okay when we were kids, but growing up turned her into a bitch. She fuckin' sucks now, dude." He looked at me. "He's better off without her."

I nodded. "I see…"

"Don't beat yourself up about it. It's not your fault," he said, patting me on the shoulder. About that time, his phone went off, and Kenny laughed as he checked it. "Mommy Kyle's gonna have a fit if I don't get you back. Let's go."

"She won't leave me the hell alone," Stan said with disgust, slamming his phone down on the table harder than he probably should have. "I've told her, I'm done with her stupid ass, nagging me all the goddamn time."

I bit my lip. By this point, it'd been a couple days since the breakup and Kenny and I came clean about eavesdropping on him (though, it _had_ been an accident. Well…mostly an accident). I had apologized before about the cause of their breakup, only to be reassured by Stan that it was _not_ my fault, and Wendy was just being a huge childish bitch. It didn't stop me from feeling guilty, though, and I tried to hide it.

"Look, I have an idea," Kenny began. "There's this club I used to go to so I could pick up chicks. There's tons of hot girls there that you may be able to get to date you or what the hell ever you wanna do with her, just to get Wendy off your back."

"What I need is someone to scare her off," Stan muttered. "It won't matter whether I actually get a girlfriend or whatever, if Wendy hears she'll go off the fucking deep end."

"Believe me, you'll be able to find somebody to scare her off," Kenny laughed. "The fuckin' vamp kids all hang out there too. They're scary as fuck."

"Vamp kids?" I asked.

"They've always thought they were vampires," Kyle said.

"They're stupid as hell," Cartman muttered.

"We can check it out," Stan finally said. "Maybe tonight?"

* * *

We met in front of the club that night around 10ish, when business was beginning to pick up and there would be more people our age there. I'd dressed comfortably, my "tablecloth" looking plaid overshirt unbuttoned with a tight tanktop underneath and skinny jeans tucked into my boots. Nothing different than normal, really. Stan, I noticed, donned a black and gray beanie, cross earring in one ear, and his entire outfit was black. Almost goth-esque, I thought to myself. Kenny dressed normally, as did Kyle, and Cartman decided he wasn't to be bothered with going so he wasn't there at all. It was a relief, if I had to be honest.

Walking in the door, I was hit with the not-so-unpleasant smell of alcohol and felt the rush of hot air from the mingling people. There was a stage in the corner of the room, which was dimly lit with purple and blue lights, with a chair in front of the microphone. No one sat there yet, but I saw someone carry a guitar and set it by the chair so I figured they were about to start. There were drums, a keyboard, and another guitar on a stand behind the chair already set up, and part of me wanted to know what kind of music was going to be played for us tonight. I tore my eyes from the stage, making small talk with the guys.

Kenny was talking to Stan about a hottie across the room, and Kyle looked pretty uncomfortable with the whole scene, making me laugh. I nudged him, asking him if he'd like to dance with me. He bit his lip, looking down. I couldn't really hear his response over the boom of the music but I could tell he was a little embarrassed, so I laughed. I decided to dance by myself, and began walking that way when a blushing Kyle stopped me. He stuttered out a reply and I dragged him out into the middle of everyone.

We danced until the music went off, and the strobing lights went black, leaving only the blue-purple glow of the stage. A moment or two later, a soft voice began singing slowly, acapella to start. She was joined by the band only seconds later, and I looked over to see the woman who owned this voice. My mouth dropped and I stared in open mouthed silence for a minute before shaking my head. The voice belonged to Clover, of all people? From the deadpan way she'd spoken to me earlier in the week, and the few times I'd seen her since that first time, there was no way I would have ever, ever guessed she could sing like this. There was a look of passion on her face, a passion I never imagined she possessed, and I could tell that she loved what she was doing. She was a completely different person singing than the one I'd met, and I thought to myself that I liked this Clover _way_ better. I heard a low whistle beside me and saw that Kenny had made his way to Kyle and I. Stan was beside him, the look in his eye giving him away. His mouth was open slightly as he watched her, and before we knew what he was doing, he pushed himself to the front of the crowd.

The crowd watched her, save for the few couples that decided to slow dance to her song, and after a moment, I looked at Kenny. "I never knew she could sing like this."

"Yeah," he said. He kept his eyes on her. "I was kinda shocked the first time I heard her sing, too. She definitely does not look like she could sing at all."

"Sucks she's such a bitch," I said with a shrug. "I'd like to sing with her sometime. Put somethin' up on YouTube."

He looked at me with a blonde brow raised. "You sing too?"

"Sure, I do," I said with a grin. "Not professionally, or never gotten a gig outside of a request on YouTube but it's a hobby. Something to screw around doing when I'm bored."

He nodded toward the stage. "You should get a gig here."

"Fuck that, I don't wanna," I said with shake of my head. "I'm fine performing for a camera…where I can't see my audience." I patted my chest over my heart. "I get nervous."

"Somehow I doubt that," he said, but let the subject go. We watched the rest of her performance with no further comments, keeping a careful eye on Stan, who by this point was nearly touching the stage. Honestly, the only way I could still tell it was him was the little black puffball on his hat.

* * *

"Hey. You. Tablecloth."

I tensed my shoulders, my hands involuntarily balling into fists. I straightened my posture and told myself that whatever went down, I would act like a lady. My inner self snorted at that as I turned to face the woman that called me. "Yes, Clover?"

She beckoned me over to her with a gloved hand, and going against everything that told me that this was a bad idea, I went to her. She looked around, and leaned in close. "So. We don't really get along, but I have a favor to ask."

"Do you, now?" I asked flatly. "What is this favor?"

"Your friend, Stan." And that was it.

"What about him?" I asked, tossing a glance in the direction I thought I'd seen him go. "You interested?" I looked back at her, my eyes meeting the dark violet depths of hers.

"Ah," she said, and I could have sworn up and down that I saw a blush creep across her face. "Yeah. I am."

"Ahem," said a masculine voice from behind me.

I turned around to see none other than Stan with a small bouquet of flowers in his hand. "Oh hey, speak of the devil." I moved so he could step forward, and he handed her the flowers without a word.

"Thanks," she said, smiling for the first time since I'd met her. When she smiled she didn't look deathly ill, that was for sure. She was a beautiful girl, but seemed to have had the personality of a dead fish. "I wanted to talk to you."

"Oh yeah?" he said, rubbing the back of his head. "Cause, actually, I had something to talk to you about too."

"Shoot," she said. She shot me a look, and I knew what she meant—this was none of my business and I'd better leave. I had no interest in listening to their conversation (who the hell was I kidding, the gossip girl in me was _dying_ to know what was going to happen), and caught up with Kenny and Kyle.

* * *

"Hey, princess, wake up," A voice whispered to me as a kiss was brushed on my lips. I woke to see "Mysterion" perched on the end of my bed, looking at me. He smiled, flashing perfect white teeth and chuckled at my disheveled appearance. "My God, you are sexy when you wake up."

I ran my fingers through my hair, trying to make the blurriness go away so I could focus on him a little better. "What are you doing back here? I thought I told you to stay away."

"And I thought I told you no," he said with the same quirky grin as the last time I saw him. It was so familiar, but I couldn't put my finger on it. "I wanted to see you again."

"I'm 99% sure I see you every day," I said pointedly.

"Doesn't really make me not want to see you," he argued. "You're only here for the summer—I want all of you I can get." He grinned again. That statement made me think of Kenny, and part of me wanted to laugh. When I tried to imagine him sneaking into girls' windows, I could only see him being himself, white t-shirt, jeans, orange hoodie. Not this…superhero's skintight uniform. Or whatever it was.

"Why won't you tell me who you are?"

My heart beat faster as he snuck forward, reaching out his gloved hand to stroke my face. "It's more fun to visit you this way," he said, before stealing another kiss. "And you'd never let me get this close to you if you knew who I was."

"How do you know?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. "For all you know, I may be interested in you."

"Fat chance," he laughed to himself. "It's better that I come steal all your kisses before you find me out." He leaned forward, our foreheads and noses touching. I looked him in the eye, and was disappointed that I _still_ couldn't see the color of them. If I could tell what color his eyes were, I'd be able to tell who this mystery man was.

His scent was familiar, but I couldn't place that, either. I blamed it on my grogginess—It should have been so very simple to figure him out. He knew that by sneaking into the room in the middle of the night my mind out be clouded by being so tired, and he could get away with it. I raised my hand to touch his face, with every intention of flinging the hood back. He caught my hand, "tsk"ing at me. "Naughty girl, that's cheating," he said, pushing me back on the bed.

"You do understand just how fucking creepy that is, don't you?"

He merely grinned before taking another kiss, and _holy hell what the fuck is my name—_

"You don't mind," he said before releasing me, and backing up to where we wouldn't—and couldn't—touch. I breathed a sigh of relief. If he kept going the way he was, I'd be making a big mistake. I would really hate to get caught with someone in my bed in my first week here… Although, I would have the advantage of finding out my mystery suitor's identity.

"I _do_ mind," I argued and it was only half-assed—I didn't have it in me. I'd rarely ever had kisses that made my knees weak, that made my heart flutter and beat so painfully, that were so damn delicious that it left me wanting more. Hell, if I was a looser woman, I'd ask him to have sex with me here and now and fuck it all I just _wanted_ him.

"No, you don't," he said. "Dahlia, it's so easy to see what you're thinking. Your eyes give it all away, so don't lie to me." I saw him grin again and he leaned forward, grabbing my wrists and leaning close enough to my ear that I could feel his breath, and oh my God, if he didn't stop _right now_ —"I'll be forced to punish you, and I'm almost positive that you'd love it."

I let out a ragged sigh as I tried to calm my racing heart, tell my nerves to stop, and goddamn it, I was so damn aroused I almost couldn't stop myself. His scent, his closeness, familiarity, the way he kept whispering in my ear and flashing that fucking smile at me…all of it was making me crazy, and I wanted to break all the rules. "Mysterion, you need to back off."

I was physically weaker now, with my fight to maintain my sanity, and the battle I was fighting with him, so he'd leave me the hell alone and _not_ make my mind so fucking cloudy with his whispers and his charisma… He tipped my chin up to look at him and leaned over my face so our lips were nearly touching _again_. "No. You want this, don't you? I've only come to you twice and you're so damn horny you can hardly stand it," he said with a quiet laugh. "From the way you act during the day, you'd have thought it would be hard to get you so hot."

"It's all your fault," I hissed, and felt stupid when he laughed again. Of _course_ it was all his fault, he woke me up with kisses made to light my entire body on fire, and continued with them despite my vehement protests. It was time for a taste of his own medicine and I prayed desperately that it didn't completely backfire on me. "What if I snuck into your house and woke you up with the kind of torture you're putting me through?" I pushed him back, a hand on his chest and now it was my turn to lean over him. "If I leaned over you, denying you my identity, only to kiss you—" I demonstrated, brushing my lips over his. "—Or maybe if _I_ was sneaking in on _you_ , I'd do a little more. Since, all you want to do is tease me…" I put my hand on his face, his fingers releasing my hand to drop to his side. My fingers lightly traced the side of his face, and I felt his hair on my fingertips. I let them slide down to his neck, then down to his shoulders over his ridiculous outfit, stopping in the middle of his chest. I felt his breath hitch a little before he composed himself.

"And what else?"

A smile played at the corners of my lips. "You sound like you want it."

"I'd be a goddamn liar if I said I didn't," he grinned back at me. He put a hand over the one I still had on his chest. "Now…is that all you'd do?" He was testing me, and I knew it. I was positively sure that I could handle more than he could.

"Well, that depends," I said, running my finger in little circles on his chest.

"Oh? On what?"

"On you," I said. "Obviously." I met his eyes. "If you were so damn hard you couldn't stand it, maybe I'd be done. I wouldn't want you to cum, you know. I want you so close you can't think of _anything else_ ," I gave him the ghost of a smile, looking at him through hooded eyes. "Then, and only then…I'd leave you." I traced the 'M' on his chest with my finger thoughtfully. "But… in the event you were unfazed…I'd maybe get a bit _more_ extreme…"

"By doing what?" He was egging me on, and by that time, I could almost feel the heat radiating off him. I was arousing him, and I felt pretty damn good about myself. His gloved hands slid up my arms, gripping my shoulders. By the way he was holding my shoulders, I had a feeling that at the end he'd be shamelessly begging me for release. Perhaps this euphoric high, this feeling of control, this power of him at my mercy is why he snuck in to see me. He wanted me so damn bad, and had fun teasing me. My reactions were amusing to him, only the foreplay to what he _really_ wanted. I should have stopped then. Really. I knew better, being the mature young woman that I was.

But I didn't.

At his encouragement, and his amusement, I'm sure, I continued speaking to him. "Maybe…I'd get a little frisky. Y'know, not just leave you with the kisses and the light touches and the whispers you leave me with, and get a little dirty. Not too dirty—I'm a lady," I said with a light laugh. I trailed my hand to the side, rubbing one side of his chest before sliding it farther downward, around his hips. I felt his breath draw in as I lightly dragged my hand over the obvious bulge between his legs, and gave him a catlike smile.

"You're no lady," he whispered, yanking me forward. "You're a sadist." He kissed me hard then, sending jolts through me. "And I'm fucking _loving it_."

"Do you know what you do to me?" I mumbled against his lips.

"I don't think you realize what _you_ do to _me_ ," he said. "I've never wanted a woman so bad in my goddamn _life_."

This moment was the moment I realized I'd gotten in over my head. I'd played my game a little too far, and I could hear the desperation in the whispers that he _still_ hadn't fucking given up, even though I thought I was mere _seconds_ from finding out his identity. He tangled one of his hands in my already-messy hair, the other one hooking around my waist, crushing me against his chest. Our faces were close again, and I looked up to find his eyes. I was unsuccessful, but I felt his breath against my lips when he whispered to me next. "You knew what you were doing, didn't you?" He asked. "You knew that even the smallest touch would push me to the edge, didn't you? Jesus, woman…just fuck me already."

It was a long while before I spoke, the silence louder than both of us when we spoke. "Yes, I knew what I was doing…" I pushed myself away from him, out of his tight hold. He let me go easily, and I knew he knew what my response would be. "And your answer is no. I won't fuck you." I smiled at him before backing up so I could get under my blankets. "Goodnight."

He pinned me back against the mattress, holding my wrists down and I heard his laugh. "You really are a sadist." He kissed me again, and again and again until I was breathless, panting, wanting nothing more from him but sweet, sweet release. I would have gladly let him fuck me senseless, until I didn't remember who the hell I was, until I couldn't even fucking _walk_. Kisses were a weakness for me, and since he was so damn good at it, he'd completely destroyed my resolve and I didn't _care_ he was still a stranger to me. The part of me with sense was screaming for him to get out now, and I decided to listen to it, this time. Next time, it may be silenced, and I needed to stop this while I could.

"Mysterion," I whispered, and my voice sounded strangled. I cleared my throat, and tried again, this time my voice stronger. He sat back. "Mysterion…I can't." I gave him a sheepish smile and pushed him off. "Sorry to send you home with a boner, but I can't have sex with you. Not this time."

"You're such a tease, princess," he said, and his voice begged me to let him stay in my bed. "I _need_ you."

"Not tonight," I said, and my tone was more firm this time. I winked at him before rolling over on my side. "Come see me again sometime. I may be more of a third-date type gal."

"You bet your sweet ass I will," he said, playing with a strand of my hair. I tossed a glance at him to see him bring it to his lips before he smiled at me. "Until next time, beautiful."

"Yeah," I said with a grin of my own. "Goodnight, Mysterion."

"Goodnight, princess." He said, before walking to the window and hopping down.

I thought twice about leaving it cracked and walked to the window to close and lock it. I pulled the curtain closed and sat down on the seat. I ran my fingers through my hair, willing my body to calm down. I sighed to myself, and stretched. I knew that next time he came to see me, he'd be ready for anything I tried to pull, and would have made plans of his own for me. I _knew_ , and next time, I'd be ready.

* * *

Chapter three should be up sometime in the next few days. Thanks for reading it!


	3. Chapter 3

Whooo chapter 3! Hope you guys are enjoying it so far! Dahlia's my baby. 3

* * *

CHAPTER THREE

KENNY'S POV

I had to stop.

If I knew what was good for me, I _would_ stop. She'd know soon, if she hadn't already figured me out. Hell, with all the flirting I did during the day, she _had_ to have known, and I needed to prepare for that conversation. If it didn't happen soon, I'd be fucking her as Mysterion, consequences be damned. I knew she'd never relent with my persistent teasing as Kenny, but if I woke her from a dead sleep as _Mysterion_ …I remembered the look in her emerald eyes when she'd first awakened and part of me wanted to see that look every fucking day for the rest of my life. She was an incredibly sexy woman, and I just wanted my hands on her. What I'd said to her was true—I'd _never_ wanted someone like I wanted her, and normally only had to work half as hard to charm women into my bed. Or, charm myself into theirs.

She'd been unbelievably cruel to me when it was _her_ turn to play games, and I'd loved every minute of it. When she'd denied me and sent me home, I'd gone to take a cold shower, to help get my mind off her. When that didn't work, I decided to take matters into my own hands. I leaned against the wall of the shower, bracing myself with one arm, and jerked myself off, the image of her face in my mind the entire time. I could almost hear her voice, begging me to take her, finally just _do something_ to her, and it sent shivers up my spine. I remembered the way her feather light touches felt on my skin, and I felt my body heat up despite the icy cold water of the shower. When I came, I came hard. Harder than I normally did when I was fucking somebody, and goddamn, did it feel _good_. And that was only to the _thought_ of her.

I cleaned up, then, feeling pretty spent and ready to finally sleep. I didn't bother to dress after I dried off—I slept naked anyway. No one in my house bothered to even acknowledge I existed, save for my baby sister Karen, and now that she was older, she didn't need to come sleep with me—there were no monsters to protect her from anymore, and she'd nearly gotten over the nightmares that plagued her for so long.

Once I laid down, I flipped through Facebook on my phone, mainly out of boredom. I was tired, but sleep was evasive tonight, like every night. I flopped on my back, my hands behind my head, staring at the ceiling. I sighed to myself raggedly, running a hand over my face. I needed to stop seeing her. I needed to stop flirting with her, trying to get myself a bigger part in her life. She wasn't interested in _Kenny_ , she was interested in _Mysterion,_ and she was interested in _Kyle_ , who was smarter than I was, wasn't a playboy like I was, wasn't just good for a quick roll in the hay. Kyle could have anything he wanted, and I could see it from the way his hands shook around her, and how his face turned the slightest of pinks around her, that he wanted her too, and I was fucking _jealous_. He'd be better for her, I _knew_ that. But I wasn't quite ready to give her up without a fight. Not yet.

* * *

I didn't go out the next day. I knew I'd make a fool of myself in front of her, especially after the events of the night prior. I needed a day to just chill out by myself and get my thoughts in order, and whether I'd be Mysterion tonight or not. I lazed about in my underwear pretty much all afternoon, glad that no one came by. I got a few texts throughout the day, pretty much the group asking where I was, and how I was feeling. I feigned sickness, but told them I'd be better tomorrow, so we could meet then. One or two were from girls I'd hit on and gotten their numbers to hook up. I wasn't feeling it, so I just ignored them.

"KENNY!"

I groaned to myself, putting a hand over my face. "Yeah?!" My mother, instead of coming to my room to get me like a normal person, screeched my name from across the house.

"You got comp'ny!"

I frowned slightly as someone knocked at my door and opened it. Kyle peeked his head in, and I beckoned him to come in, not bothering to throw anything on. It wasn't the first time he'd seen me in my underwear, and let's face it, it took a _lot_ to embarrass me. I was relieved to see that he was alone, and patted a spot beside me on the bed. "Hey, dude, what's up?"

"You're not really sick, are you?" He asked me point-blank.

I laughed sheepishly. "About that…"

"You're avoiding her, aren't you?" he said, looking at me from the corner of his eyes. "I saw you leaving my house last night, Kenny."

"Fuck," I said, raking my hand through my hair and looking at him. "Sorry. It won't happen again." Sometimes when I got scolded by Kyle, it actually made me feel like a kid. "I, ah…wanted to show off my Mysterion costume." It was a _stupid_ lie, and I'd had to have been a _fool_ to think that he'd believe that for one second.

"Stop lying to her," he said. He looked at his hands. "I don't care how many other women you trick into having sex with you with that old-ass act, but not _her_." He sighed then. "Look, I know you like her, and that's great, but goddammit, don't _do_ that to her."

"Sorry, dude," I said again. "I wasn't thinking." But I _was_ thinking, and I didn't think Kyle would appreciate the truth. I'll admit, the first time I went to see her as Mysterion, I'd wanted—hell, I almost _counted_ on—her to welcome me into her bed with open arms—obviously I'd misjudged the kind of woman she was. She wasn't some easily swayed hussy that opened her legs from just one kiss, and sweet words—she was something more, and I felt like an idiot for even beginning to think of her like that. Sure, I knew her over WoW, and we'd flirted over the internet, but text isn't delivered the same way as spoken words. I thought I'd had her figured out—I was dead wrong, and when I figured that out I wanted her more than I had when I thought she was easy. After all, it made the prize at the end so much sweeter.

"Don't fuck with me, dude," he said. "You _always_ think." He looked at me, then, and I knew he knew what was going on in my head. He always had known me _so well_ , and I couldn't keep anything from him. Goddammit, he was going to make me admit it, wasn't he? "I know what you wanted."

I sighed. "Look, yeah, I snuck in last night to fuck her. Happy now?" I finally came out and said it. "I went in, was refused 'cause she thinks I'm a fucking creep, and I left." I was _not_ going to tell him about last night's events. I wasn't going to let him know how close I got, because that was _our_ secret, and frankly, I _was_ a little embarrassed that I was almost begging her to let me stay, 'cause God knows I _needed_ it. It was a little blow to my pride that I'd been bested at my own game. "She asked me not to come back." I saw a flicker of something on Kyle's face and I snorted to myself. "Dude, if you want her, let me know. I'll back off—she was yours first."

"She's not a goddamn puppy," Kyle snapped, and I knew I'd unintentionally struck a nerve with him.

"That's not what I meant," I said back. I held my hands up. "I get it. I'll quit with the Mysterion thing, I guess." _Fucking liar, is what you are_ , I thought wryly. There was no way in hell I'd be able to stop what I'd so foolishly started. It only took one taste of her, one kiss to get addicted, and now I was like a man starved.

"Just…don't toy with her. That's all I'm asking." He stood up, then. "I'll, ah…I'll see you later, dude." He waved at me before walking out the door, and I flopped back on my bed.

"What the hell am I doing?" I murmured.

* * *

"Go out with me," I said to Dahlia, before I could even stop the words from escaping my lips.

"Pardon?"

"Go out with me," I repeated, knowing this was a terrible idea and Kyle would definitely, without a doubt in my mind, _kill me_ but the stupidest part of me thought that this was a terrific idea...and those that knew me knew I usually listened to _that_ part. _Hell,_ I thought, _at least I'll die a happy man._

She looked at me, a pretty blush on her face, biting her lip and smiling at me. I'd really never seen her like this, and I can't say I didn't like it. She wasn't the _most_ feminine woman (and I do mean that with all respect, I liked her tomboyish qualities) but when she looked like _this_...I wanted to do bad, bad things to her (as if I didn't _always_ want to do bad things to her. The girl was just dangerous.). "I don't know," she said slowly. "How do I know I can trust you?"

"I never kiss and tell," I teased.

"That's not what I'm afraid of," She wrinkled her nose at me. "You're always pawing at me and flirting with me. If I say yes and I'm your girlfriend, I just have a feeling that you're gonna try harder."

"Maybe," I said with a shrug. "Maybe not. You're different than other girls." I decided to change the subject, and since we were by ourselves-again, it seemed to happen a lot lately with the guys ditching us-I had a question on my mind that I wondered if she'd answer, something that _I_ needed the answer to, really. "Did your mysterious man sneak in the window again?"

She gave me a weird look, and her face turned the lightest of pinks. "Oh, you remember me telling you about him, huh…"

"Of course, he's sneaking in and stealing all the kisses that should belong to me," I teased again, winking at her. "No, seriously...I do worry about you, you know."

"Sure," she said, and laughed a little to herself. "He's only been back one time since then." She bit her lip, toying with one of the plugs she had in her stretched earlobe. She turned her face away, looking at the ground. "Good thing, too."

Her reaction amused and pleased me, but there was no way I could tell _her_ that. I wasn't quite finished with my game yet. "Oh yeah? You hate him that much?"

She laughed at me then. "Hate's one word," she said. "Not to get too personal, but the things he does to me make me hate both of us sometimes." She blushed big time then, looking at me, and held her hands up. "I just meant...we don't have sex or anything! I just meant...goddammit." She put her hands over her face. "I can't even get my thoughts together." She took a breath, closing her eyes. After a moment of composing herself, she looked at me. "I resist as hard as I can but...a girl can only take so much." She shrugged then. "But I send him home without getting what he wants, so I guess...I do have that much self-control."

"Lucky bastard," I muttered, knowing I was talking about _myself_ , but talking to her like this, I had to separate the two personas-so it was like I was talking about another man. "I'd like to have just a little taste of what this guy's gettin'." I made no mention of her calling me if he came back-I'd be back soon, and I wasn't going to have her call a phone that wouldn't be answered.

She looked at the ground again, then back up at me, and the color of her face could have rivaled a fire engine. "I guess...if I _did_ say yes to you...I'd probably wanna kiss you…"

I pecked a kiss on her forehead. "I'll be a gentleman for now,"I said with a teasing smile as the rest of the guys walked up. Kyle glared at me accusingly for just a second, seeing Dahlia's red face, and I shrugged with a grin. I had done nothing to her today to account for that. Well...nothing _bad_ , anyway.

"You're no gentleman," she laughed, and that was the end of the conversation. I'd like to say my heartbeat didn't quicken when she leaned into me, taking my hand into hers and entwining our fingers behind her back. Somehow it felt like it was the most intimate I'd ever been with someone.

And in a moment, the good feeling was gone.

Clover, who apparently was Stan's girlfriend now, had said something about Dahlia's plaid shirt (which, honestly was one of the things I liked _most_ about her), and of course, Dahlia took offense. I could tell that it was more lighthearted than usual, like the girls were starting to get along, just a little...but I wasn't going to bet on it, by any means. "So, Kenny, you finally got her, huh?" She asked, turning her attention to me.

I winked at the goth. "Sure did. Sorry if you're jealous."

Clover raised her middle finger at me, a hand on her hip. "Fuck off."

I laughed. "About time you guys made it back, I thought you'd deserted us."

"Nah," Stan said. "Just running a little late making it back." I wiggled my eyebrows at him with a knowing grin and he rolled his eyes. "Not all of us are like you, Kenny. My mom made me wait for Wendy to shut the hell up and bring me my shit."

"She's _still_ after you?" I asked him. I get they _were_ together, but damn, let the guy _breathe_. Wendy was like a plastic bag over your face when she was around. Just her presence alone would suffocate and probably actually kill you. Maybe that's why Stan looked dead most days in school.

"You know how she is," Stan said.

"She didn't stay as long with me there," Clover said. "I think I scare her."

"Not only that," Stan said. "You kept blowing smoke in her face."

Clover grinned and snickered. "It was a nice touch, I think. Bitch wouldn't shut up."

"That's one way to do it," Dahlia said with a laugh. We made our way to a little pizza joint not too far from where we were, meeting Cartman there. Dinner was pretty uneventful, just pretty much small talk, and I couldn't resist teasing Dahlia under the table. I'd grab her hand, pinch her gently on the thigh, play footsie, all that. I didn't want to do anything to give myself away as Mysterion, but I knew my charade wouldn't last too much longer. I decided to play him one last time before finally revealing myself. She _did_ say she was a third-date girl, didn't she?

* * *

It was too soon after the last time to go see her. I _knew_ that. But I _had_ to see her. It was driving me completely bat-shit-fucking _insane_ that I couldn't touch her, not while I was Kenny, and believe me, I had virtually _no_ self-control. Not knowing how hot she could get, not knowing that _look_ in her eyes that said she could devour my fucking soul and I knew, and _she_ knew that I would enjoy every second of her domination. I could hear it now, when I finally tired (who was I kidding, I'd let her have her way with me _all night_ , if that's what she wanted to do) of her getting her way, her sweet voice mewling my name, and I couldn't _wait_. Of course, it wouldn't be _my_ name, not at first, but _Mysterion's_...but that didn't bother me. After all, we were the same person, weren't we?

Kyle would kill me, if he knew what I was planning. But then again, I was never able to fool Kyle-he was smart, smarter than I was, that was for damn sure-and he'd figure me out. He'd be watching for me, waiting for me to appear to her, only to catch me and scold me like a fucking child. He knew what I was there for-but to be fair, so did she, and she personally invited me back-but he had no intention of letting me have her. In a way, I didn't blame him-I wouldn't let me around the girl I liked either. I have no problem admitting that I am a dog, and more often than not, I don't mind showing it. Most of my women don't care, they were only after me for one thing, anyway. Once they had sex with me, they would talk, and sometimes it made me feel pretty fucking great.

When I thought about just a one night stand with _Dahlia_ -

What a goddamn _lie_. She'd never be a one night stand. The way I kept kissing her was like a man dying of a hunger only she could fix, and I couldn't give up my addiction. The way I felt about her was different than other women-maybe because she _was_ resisting me so hard. It was all about the chase, but-and I don't know why-I hoped like hell I didn't lose interest in her once I got what I had been after. I was starting to enjoy her company (well, more than I enjoyed it before-at first all I was after was a pretty face, if I was _totally_ honest), and I had rarely been kissed like she kissed me-I couldn't fucking get _enough_ of her.

It was pitch dark tonight, the only light the dim, yellowish-brown of the streetlights, so it was harder to see tonight than usual. I pulled my mask on, pushing all my hair under the scarf I used for a hood so she wouldn't see a blond lock hanging out. I pulled my gloves on over the sleeves of the skintight bodysuit that Mysterion wore, tall boots over my feet. I didn't bother leaving a note when I left-I'd be back before either of my parents woke from their drunken stupor. Even if I didn't come back, no one would care, anyway. I was the least of this family's concern.

It was a short trip to Kyle's tonight, even taking the long way around by sticking in the shadows. I made sure to stay out of sight as I climbed to the second story of his house, pushing the yet-again unlocked window open. This time, I closed and locked it, pulling the curtains behind me. I sat down on the window seat for a moment, content to watch her sleep. She was fucking adorable, and I had that feeling one more time-I wanted to see this every single day of my life, for the rest of my life. In as many lives as I would have. _Fuck. I_ _ **don't**_ _love her. Guys like me don't_ _ **fall in love**_. _Especially after just a week. Goddamn, you're stupid._

I snuck up beside her, pulling her hair to the side to stroke her face, but this time was different than normal-she caught my hand and looked at me. "I was waiting for you, Mysterion." I didn't say a word, just captured her mouth in a steamy kiss that made _my_ knees weak. She pulled back, sitting back and scooting out of reach. The only part of her I could reach were her hands, so I was content to hold her hands...for now. "You can't," she said. "You have to leave. If he finds out you were here, he'll be angry with me."

"Who?" I asked, my lips involuntarily tipping up into my typical grin.

"Kenny," she whispered. "If he knew that you were here, and the things you _do_ to me...Mysterion, he would be furious if he knew how hard it is for me stop you." She stopped, taking her hands away and raking them through her hair. "I just _can't_. I don't want to do that to Kenny." She stopped again, sighing. "I really like him."

"He doesn't have to know," I said to her, taking her hands again and bringing them to my lips.

"But he _will_ know," she said to me, but didn't pull her hands away. "And when he finds out I've slept with you, he'll be pissed. No man wants to find out their girlfriend slept with another man." She shook her head. "So, I'm sorry, I don't think I can give you what I know you're wanting."

I kissed her palm, up to her wrist. She didn't stop me, and I made my way to her elbow. She was so damn _sweet_. "So you're with him now, hm?" I murmured against the inside of her elbow. "Lucky bastard."

She laughed, but I could hear the shakiness in her voice. "Funny-he said the same thing about you."

"So he knows about me?" I looked up at her, noticing just how close our faces were. I could take all her kisses if I wanted to...and _fuck_ , did I want to.

"He does," she said, seeming relieved I'd stopped the gentle assault on her arm. I hid a smile. Goddamn, she was easy to turn on. It was incredible, the way she fought my advances during the day, but kiss her _once_ at night and she was nearly putty in my skilled hands. "I'm not so sure he liked hearing about you...at least the first time I told him about you. I want to know who you _are._ "

"Should I kiss you during the day, princess?" I asked with sincerity. It would be an easy way to tell who I was, that's for damn sure.

"No," she whispered, eyes wide. She looked so innocent like this, not like herself at all. Apparently she took relationships very seriously, and even though we'd only been together _a day_ , she wasn't going to betray me like that. Technically, she _wasn't_ betraying me, but _she_ thought she was, and I had to give her props for it. Loyalty was definitely a good quality in a woman. "No, you can't. Just show me who you are now."

"Ah, I would if I could, my love," I whispered to her, the words leaving my mouth before I could catch them. The scariest part to me was the fact I'd said 'my love' and felt like I _meant_ it. _What the fuck is wrong with me?_ I touched her face, cupping my hand behind her head, fingers tangling in her thick hair. I pulled her close to me, kissing her softly.

There were tears in her voice as I pulled away from the kiss, only slightly, our lips were still touching. "Mysterion, please...Don't do this to me…" She was whispering.

"What am I doing to you?" I asked her in amusement. I knew it was cruel of me, but I was enjoying this far too much to stop. Of course, she'd feel guilty, and if she _did_ tell on Mysterion to me, I'd just tell her the truth. Hopefully she wouldn't hate me.

"Don't call me that," she said as I pulled her close and began to nibble on the side of her throat. "Please, please stop." Her voice was weak, and so were her hands when she put them on my upper arms to push me away. She didn't sound as if she meant it-and I had good reason to believe that she didn't.

"Call you what?" I said to her, knowing exactly what she meant. I slipped the side of her big t-shirt down to access her shoulder. Thank God for baggy clothes.

"You know what I mean," she said, her head dropping on my shoulder. "Don't keep teasing me like this. I'm not sure if I'll be able to stop you. I'm not that strong."

"You are," I said to her. "You've pushed me away many times."

"I'm not as strong as you may think," she said, pulling my head up to look at her after raising her own head off my shoulder. She slipped her hands inside the hood and tangled her fingers in my hair. The scarf was beginning to slip, and about the time it did, the streetlight by Kyle's house went out. I breathed a sigh of relief to myself, thankful that the only light we now had was the tiny light from Dahlia's phone charger, and the dimly-lit air freshener in the opposite corner of the room. I could barely see her anymore, so I let the scarf fall to the floor. My mask stayed on, but I was still screwed if the light came back on-she'd know the color of my hair.

My eyes adjusted to the darkness rather quickly, and I picked out just a few of her features. I was able to find her eyes, thanks to the jewelry she wore, and her lips. Those were really all I cared about right this moment, anyway. I wasn't normally the kissing type, but if that's the only thing I could get from Dahlia right now, then I would kiss her until I couldn't anymore. "You're the strongest woman I've ever met," I said to her with a smile.

"You're lying," she said, and she ran her fingers through my hair. She sighed to herself. "I wish I knew the color of this…"

"It can be any color you want it to be, my love." I said _those words_ again, but was not disappointed in the reaction. You'd have thought I touched her from the way her breath hitched and she sighed after, tightening her hold on my hair. My chest clenched painfully with my desire for her. I wanted to hold out a little longer, to make sure that _tonight_ was the night, damn the consequences, damn the fact that she thought she was cheating, and damn the fact that I was pretty damn sure that I'd actually fall in love with her after getting her to myself. "Dahlia," I whispered in her ear. "My sweet, sweet Dahlia."

"Yes," she said, her voice ragged and I felt so damn _proud_ , how did I even begin to get her like this with just my _voice_? I started to feel pretty goddamn powerful, even though I shouldn't have.

"Have you been with any other man?" I asked her, taking one of my hands and running it down the side of her neck, down the front of her shirt and once at the bottom, back up underneath. No bra. I cupped one of her breasts and heard her sharp intake of breath. I smiled to myself. Now _this_ was the reaction I loved getting out of women. However, from her, I'd take all I could get. I was a greedy bastard.

"N-no," she said hesitantly, her hands untangling from my hair to rest on my shoulders. "I haven't…"

I was amused by her answer, and pretty damn pleased that I would be the first to touch this beautiful woman like this. She'd be mine, not only now, but _forever_ , and for some reason that was more satisfying to me than any other time I'd taken a virgin to bed. _This_ woman was special. She was _mine_. Goddamn, I was possessive. "Thank God," I breathed before I thought. I looked at her, searching the dark for her eyes and finding them easily. Her lips were parted, her breath coming in soft pants, and holy hell, I _wanted_ her. And I meant to take what I wanted. I kissed her then, hard, and without breaking contact, threw her down underneath me. I didn't have to pin her hands like I thought I would have to-she wrapped her arms around my neck, one hand at the base of my skull, the other tangled in the blond mass of my hair. I wedged her knees apart, putting one of my knees in between hers and ground it against her. She made a muffled noise, pulling me closer to her. _That's_ what I wanted to hear. That's when I knew she wasn't going to protest anymore, wasn't going to deny me because she wanted- _needed_ -this as bad as I did. And who was _I_ to deny a lady what she wanted?

"Take it off," I commanded in a hushed voice. "All of it. I want you, all of you."

"Yes," she whispered, and did as I asked. I looked down at her, and the whiteness of her glowed slightly with the dim lights. From what I could see, she was fucking gorgeous, and I felt that possessiveness again as I touched her. I took my gloves off with shaky hands, dropping them to the floor so that I'd know where they were when it came time to leave. As bad as I wanted her, it was almost like I was afraid to touch her, and so when it came down to it, I trailed my hands over her first, lightly. Her eyes were closed, just feeling what I was doing to her. The only sound in the room was the sound of our breathing, occasionally a gasp when I touched somewhere sensitive. I ached to feel her hands on me, but enjoyed this for a while before I took my outfit off. I didn't want to stop, and she didn't want me to, either, by the sound of her whine when I moved off her long enough to strip myself. I kept my mask on, obviously not having to, I just couldn't be bothered to take it off.

Once I climbed back into bed with her, she was all hands and mouth, kissing, sucking, biting, touching everywhere she could get to, and I wondered if she was telling the truth about me being her first-if it were true, I was a lucky, lucky man. She wasn't a loud lover, like most of the women I'd been with-her soft noises, the little groans and gasps that I swallowed up with my kisses were made to break a man, and good God I wanted to be _broken_. When I did take her, it was almost feral, but she didn't seem to mind. She breathed my name a few times, and I was never more glad to hear the name "Mysterion" called from someone's mouth. It was hard to hold back from finishing first, but I managed to do it. I knew she'd climaxed when she clutched me close, whispering to me. She didn't make much sense, but I knew I wouldn't either, if I spoke. I literally saw fireworks when I finished, collapsing rather ungracefully on top of her. She held me for a few moments, my head resting on her chest, running her fingers through my hair. After a while of that, she sighed, pushing me away.

"It was fun, Mysterion-but you have to leave now," she said. "I...I shouldn't have slept with you."

I raised up to look at her, and couldn't resist kissing her. "You regret it," I said simply.

"I do," she said softly. "I won't deny that I had fun, and you leave me wanting more...but you don't need to come back. Please, for me, don't come back."

"You ask too much of a man like me," I said, putting my hand on her cheek. I didn't miss the way she leaned into my touch. "I can't get enough of you."

"You got what you wanted," she said. "You can leave me alone now-it's okay. I'm not angry."

I saw her try to smile at me and nuzzled her shoulder with my nose, kissing the base of her throat. "Don't be that way. I wasn't lying when I said you'd be the type of girl a sleaze like me would fall for. I'm not finished with you, my love. I'll be back again, and again, and each time we'll fight, we'll fuck, and I'll tell you how jealous I am of the man that's dating you." I felt her heartbeat quicken and she held her breath for the slightest of seconds. "And in the end...I'll show you who I am."

"Why only at the end?" She asked. "You've already fucked me before Kenny even got his chance." She let out a little laugh at that, and I smiled to myself in the darkness. "Why don't you just give it up?"

"How about I make a deal with you? I'll meet you two days from now, and I'll tell you everything," I said. "I'll meet you in the alleyway, back by the mall. You know the one. Come by yourself."

"When do I need to be there?"

"I'll leave that up to you," I told her, planting a kiss on her lips and getting off her. I dressed quickly, and no sooner had I unlocked and stepped in the window to leave, the light came back on. I smiled at her, then, knowing she was able to see _that_. "Goodnight, princess. Sweet dreams."

"How will I know it's you?" She asked before I jumped down.

I turned to look at her, raising a gloved hand to my lips. "I'll kiss you." At that, I jumped.

* * *

Mysterion again! Writing about him is fun. Thanks for reading! Chapter 4 will come soon!


	4. Chapter 4

Hey guys! As promised, Chapter 4. I wanted to thank those who favorited/are following this story! I'm glad you like it! 3 There's plenty more left.

* * *

Kyle's POV

I kept telling myself that I shouldn't be jealous. It was like a mantra or chant or something, like a song that had gotten stuck in my head. I _couldn't_ be jealous. Well, I mean, I _could_ but what good does jealousy do when the girl you like _needs_ you because she _trusts_ you, and whatever this is on her mind is driving her to the point of almost-tears. All I wanted to do was gather her in my arms, like Kenny would, and comfort her, assure her that it would be alright. Of course, I couldn't now-not that I would feel guilty if I did-I was too damn shy. I liked her so much, had always liked her, and now that she was _here_ , in front of me, she was dating someone else. Naturally, it was my own goddamn fault for waiting too long. If I'd thought of sneaking in her room like Kenny had, she may be wrapped around _my_ finger.

She tied her thick red hair up in a ponytail with the bandana she typically wore as a headband, pushing her bangs out of her face. I could see the stress in the way she moved, though I had a feeling she was holding back a lot more for my sake. She looked at me, and her eyes were striking to me, even filled to the brim with guilt. "I don't know what to do, Kyle. Help me."

"You have to tell me what happened before I can help you," I said gently. I could say that as long as I'd known her, when she was upset, she made _no_ fucking sense, and forgot to say things that were kind of necessary. I wasn't exactly _thrilled_ to know that she was this upset-of course, I had a feeling _why_ -but I'd help her as well as I could. One of the things I prided myself on as I got older was holding it together for everyone else, and pretty much being the confidant of the group. Well, between Stan and Kenny-Cartman rarely had secrets and when he did, he preferred not to come to _me_ (y'know, being a Jew and all).

"Oh, right," she said, giving me a shaky smile before wringing her hands and taking a deep breath. "So, I've been keeping a secret from you." I waited patiently for her to continue, and when she looked up to see my reaction, I nodded at her. I wasn't _angry_ -everyone had their secrets. "And...it involves being here. At this house." She took another deep breath. "And...a man. Someone's been sneaking in my window, coming to see me when everyone else is asleep." She looked guilty. "I'm sorry for not telling you the first time he came to see me, but I thought I handled it. I told him not to come back, and for a while, he didn't."

"How many times has he come to see you?" I asked softly. "He doesn't hurt you, does he?" I knew he hadn't, but it seemed like a good question to ask.

"No, no, he doesn't," She said, shaking her head. "He's only been to see me three times and he does...other things." Her face was turning red, and she looked down again, not being able to keep eye contact with me. "I mean...He'll sneak in, wake me up with kisses, and then teases me." Her face nearly glowed, but she continued. "He likes to see how far he can go before I break, but _he's_ the one who's begged me to stay. It's really hard to resist him." She ran her fingers through her bangs and put her hands over her face. I'd never noticed the silver bands around her thumb, middle and ring finger on her right hand before then, taking quick notice of the engraving of the ring on her thumb-leaves-before she moved her hands away from her face. "My biggest issue _right this minute_ is that I gave into him last night… I feel like shit. What's Kenny going to say when he finds out?"

 _If you only knew,_ I thought wryly. "Are you going to tell him?" I asked.

"I don't want to," she said. "I'm afraid that he's going to be angry at me. Who wants to hear that their girlfriend was with another guy _the day_ they got together?" She put her hands to the side of her head.

"Knowing Kenny, he'd probably come up with something to have all _three_ of you in bed together," I muttered.

She gave me a mortified look, raising her head slowly to meet my eyes and shook her head. It would have been comical had she not been so stressed. "No, don't say that," she whispered.

I smiled at her. "I'm joking," I said. "So, does this guy have a name?"

"I don't know what his real name is," she said. "I've asked and asked, and all he tells me is to call him 'Mysterion', and that I'd find out who he was eventually. He doesn't want me to know who he is, and it's kind of bothering me. I figured since he got what he wanted, he'd show me who he was, but nope! He changed his mind." She frowned, and I did too.

"Mysterion, you said?" I repeated. I was frustrated with Kenny already, but now I was getting a little angrier. I'd already told him once. "I'll talk to him for you. He needs to respect you."

"Yeah, please do," she said, and the look on her face said it all. I had taken a weight off her shoulders, and she was looking at me like I was ten feet tall. She threw her arms around my waist, burying her face into my chest and hugging me tightly. "Thank you, thank you, thank you...I don't know what I'd do without you."

I looked at her in surprise, not knowing what to do before awkwardly patting her on the back. "I don't know what he'll say-but I'll talk to him." _I'll probably do anything you ask me to, if you keep looking at me like that._ I squashed the feelings down as she let me go, a relieved smile on her face.

She nodded. "Kyle, I think that if he would listen to anyone, it'd be you."

"I hope he will," I said. "I do have a plan, just in case he doesn't…" She was giving me that _look_ again, and I smiled at her to try and hide my nervousness. She waited on me to tell her what I was thinking and after a moment or two I caught on and explained what was going on in my head.

I knew without a shadow of a doubt that he'd be back tonight, and when he stepped in that window I'd be ready. We'd swapped bedrooms for the night, with her eager agreement. I hoped that she had a decent night's sleep tonight, since I had a feeling Kenny, under the guise of Mysterion, would be visiting her more frequently-if he'd gotten her to have sex with him once, he'd do it again. What he _wouldn't_ expect would be me in her bed. I, of course, would catch him as soon as he stepped in the window-there was _no way in hell_ I was letting him kiss me like he did her. However, Kenny had the best eyesight in the dark, so he may have figured it out on his own. That being said-I was still not going to risk it; it would be embarrassing for both of us (moreso for me, I'm sure).

He showed up, just as the clock struck 3am, and to this day, I have not figured out how the hell he got that locked window open. He pushed the curtains to the side, smiling as he stepped inside and pulled the window closed behind him. His face fell when he saw me sitting cross-legged on top of her blankets, eyes wide in the initial shock and he took an involuntary step back before, instead of getting mad at me, he laughed. "I should have expected _you_ to show up in her bed. Was it your brilliant plan, or hers, to keep me away?"

"Mine," I said in a hard voice, glaring at him. "I told you to quit this, Kenny. You told me you'd give it up."

"I lied," he said, with no conviction in his voice. He _never_ lied to me, and it stung just a bit to know he _had_ and I wasn't able to catch him.

"I realize that," I snapped. "You have to stop. She's worried sick that you're going to be mad at her for 'cheating' on you."

"Ssh, not so loud," he said, sitting down on the corner of the bed. "I'm gonna tell her, Kyle." He looked at me, pulling his hood and mask off. Around me, he didn't _have_ to dress up. "But...I'm not going to tell her now."

" _Why?_ " I asked. "What's holding you back now?" I'm pretty sure he could see my frustration. "You can't keep playing games with her. I'm not going to let you."

"I want her for myself," he said, his voice more serious than I'd ever heard before.

"You got what you wanted-she's yours. Your girlfriend and your lover. What more do you want?" I narrowed my eyes at him. "There's no _reason_ to keep dressing up."

He let out a soft chuckle, running a hand through his hair. "Once I figured it out, I realized I actually liked her for more than just that body of hers. I like who she _is_." He shrugged. "And I want all of it."

I snorted. "You say that about all your women." At his sharp look, I saw something in his eyes that I'd never seen before and it stopped me right there. Wait...he didn't actually _love_ her, did he? _Our_ Kenny, the infamous womanizer, Casanova, playboy who didn't give a shit who he fucked, who didn't care _what_ they were like as long as they had a pretty face and a pussy, actually _loved_ her? It was a ridiculous idea, Kenny didn't love any of his women. "What's so different about her than every single one of the others?"

"She denied me. She still denies me," he said. "Even last night, she begged me to stop." He looked at me. "It drives me crazy."

"That's a goddamn stupid reason," I said with more force than I meant to. "You're so used to them giving into you, you fall head over fucking heels for the first one who is intelligent enough to tell you no." The look he gave me told me that if we weren't such good friends, he'd knock me the fuck out. I sighed. I honestly didn't want to piss him off, but what else was I supposed to say to get it through his thick head-I was trying to _protect_ her. "Are you trying to break her?"

"Nah," He drawled after a moment or two of thought. "I don't want to break her." He looked at me, his normal grin on his face. "You should _see_ the way she gets when she's backed in a corner. So goddamn aggressive. I love it." He shook his head. "I don't think I could break her, even if I tried. She's got me wrapped around her fuckin' finger." The look on his face was nothing I'd ever seen before, and it made me wonder if my suspicion was right. Then I felt like an idiot again. He had something more up his sleeve-it was Kenny we were talking about. "I want her to fall in love with me."

"If you hurt her, Kenny, I swear to God-"

"Why do you think I'm going to hurt her so goddamn bad?" He snapped at me. "If you haven't fuckin' noticed, I _do_ actually think of her as something different than all the other whores I've ever fucked. When have I ever asked any of them to go out with me? _Never._ And I don't fuckin' plan to. There's somethin' about her, somethin' I can't put my finger on, but I _want_ it and I'm gonna fuckin' _get_ what I want." He threw a nasty look at me. "And before you say anything, it's not sex-you pointed it out yourself that I already got what I wanted. I want somethin' more than just a quick fuck."

"Why her?" It was pretty much the only thing I could think to say after his outburst.

"Can't help who you want," He said simply.

"That still doesn't tell me why you're still dressing up," I said, remembering the reason we'd started our little debate (if that's what you want to call it).

"I'll be Kenny during the day-I can get through the day without touching her, or kissing her or whatever. She'll probably like that, since she made a comment about me pawing at her when I first asked her out. At night, I can be Mysterion. I'll get what I want, and so will she."

"Until she finds out you've been lying to her the whole time she's been here."

"I'll cross that bridge when I come to it," he said with a shrug. He looked outside. "Look, I gotta get goin'."

"Go home-not to my room," I commanded.

"Yeah, yeah…" he waved me off as he opened the window. "Your room doesn't have a big enough window for me, anyway."

"Thank God for small miracles," I said sarcastically as he jumped from the window. I heard him catch himself on a part of the house that jutted out just a little and when I got up to close the window, saw him running toward his house, staying _just_ out of the lights of the street lamps. I closed the curtains, walking back to her bed and collapsing backwards. I rubbed my face with both hands, sighing deeply.

* * *

"You look like shit," Stan commented conversationally the following day.

I rubbed my face with one hand, then brushed my fingers through my thick, curly hair. "I feel like shit. I didn't get any sleep last night."

"He came to see you-well, me-didn't he?" Dahlia asked me when she had a moment to ask me alone. "I'm sorry. I knew he'd be back."

"It's fine." I said, knowing it was a lie. It was _not_ fine, and it didn't matter if I talked to Kenny until I was blue in the face, he still wouldn't give up the fucking charade until he was ready to. I just hoped that it didn't blow up in his face like I thought it would.

"Are you sure?" she said in concern.

"I tried to talk to him," I admitted. "I pretty much just wasted time for both of us. He'll be back." I was dying to send Kenny the dirtiest of looks, but I didn't want to be in the middle of their drama when she found out. "Sorry."

"I'll handle him from now on. I can take a few kisses," she smiled at me, and there was a devilish glint in her eye that I hadn't seen before. "And I'm sure I can think of a few ways to keep him away."

"I'm not sure I want to know how you plan to do that," I said.

She shrugged innocently. "Well, I can't say it'll be a great idea, but I guess if I can get him frustrated-y'know, like, sexually frustrated, cause there's no way in hell I'm fucking him again-enough times, he'll leave me alone. I won't lose my resolve again. He won't have a choice but to go torture some other poor woman."

"You're playing with fire," I said in a low voice, noticing Kenny's glance this way from the corner of my eye. "You know that, don't you?"

"Sure, I do. If it keeps happening, I can stay with Kenny for a few nights-that way if he climbs in my window, I won't be in _that_ room, and he'll leave." She smiled. "I can be a frigid bitch, but he doesn't know it yet."

At that, she laughed, walking away to Kenny. I watched her take his hand, and he winked in my direction with a slick smile that told me he could hear _every word_. I could swear I felt my blood boil a little bit, and I hated to say it, but part of me hoped that when she found out about his lies, she'd leave him. He'd deserve it for what he was putting her through.

"I've got to go to band practice," Clover was saying when I came back to reality. "The lead's out, so they've been bitching at me to take her place. It's like my 'no' doesn't count, no matter how many times I say it."

"I think you should sing with her," Kenny said, throwing Dahlia forward, nearly into Clover's chest. Dahlia recovered herself and tossed a dirty look at him over her shoulder. "She's good."

"You've never heard me sing," Dahlia retorted, straightening her spine and crossing her arms over her chest. "So how would you know?"

"Goin' by what you've told me about YouTube…" He shrugged.

Clover looked Dahlia up and down without a word. After a long while, she grabbed the ginger's arm and began dragging her behind. Dahlia protested for a moment, but after discovering that the goth wasn't going to let go, quieted and followed meekly. Us guys merely blinked at each other before Kenny burst out laughing.

* * *

((Clover's POV))

"Clover, you can let me go now," Dahlia said wearily when we got to the empty club the band practiced at. I released her arm, without breaking stride and walked onto the stage. I grabbed a mic off the stand, flipping the switch on it and motioning to one of the band members to turn the sound equipment on. I tossed it to her wordlessly. When she caught it, she looked at me in confusion.

"Sing," I commanded.

"Sing _what?_ "

"Doesn't matter-you can sing anything," I said. "If you've got this great voice, show it to me. They can always use another singer." I looked at the bandmates and back to her. "Their current singer is shit, and if they want anybody _good_ , they come to me." I looked down my nose at her. "So, sing."

She took a deep breath, and started singing a song that I vaguely remembered hearing on the radio recently. Her voice was pretty, a little different than I expected, but not _bad_. I even had the thought that if we sang together, our voices would blend together nicely. If nothing else, we would get a rise from the crowd, and some fucking _excitement_ , for once in the band's short existence. The only time anyone ever came was when they heard I was singing, and that was only _maybe_ a few times a year.

I gestured for her to stop, then smiled at her, genuinely, for the first time. I walked to her, taking the mic from her hands. "Congrats. You're in." She looked at me, not at all looking like the girl I'd met before-she looked younger now, probably due to her confusion.

She sputtered for a moment or two before composing herself and straightening up. She smiled at me then. "Thanks-I appreciate it."

I waved it off. "Don't worry about it. People who come to this tip well-especially if you're a bombshell." I looked her up and down for the second time today and grinned at her. "They'll love you. Just get rid of that fucking tablecloth and you're ready for the stage."

She glared at me. "Stop with the tablecloth comments," she said.

"Don't you know a joke when you hear it?" I said coolly, walking back to the stage. "Calm your tits." I walked to the back of the stage, where we had a calendar hanging with gigs that we'd been invited to play. The lead singer would be out for a while, it looked like, since my name was on every gig for the next three weeks. I rolled my eyes. _Fuck._ The band was alright, I guessed, but nothing to jump up and down about. I looked for the next gig, and noticing it was two days from now, I called Dahlia up to the stage with me. "You think you can be ready?" I pointed to the date.

"You give me a song and I'll be ready," she said, and I liked the determination in her eyes.

* * *

Band practice typically lasted a couple hours, so during that time I went over what parts I wanted Dahlia to sing, and gave her a couple songs to go home and practice. I also gave her my number-if she needed to come here and practice, call me and I'd be here. I had a lot on my mind lately, mainly Stan if I was honest. I liked the guy, _really_ liked him, but that fucking ex-girlfriend of his was causing every issue you could imagine. First, it's that she _really_ misses him and wants him back, then its her anger, jealousy, and now her inevitable hatred toward me. She called his phone often enough to where he blocked the number, and when _that_ went down, she seemed to give up. I'm sure she sent nasty messages to his friends on Facebook or whatever, but as long as they weren't getting to _us_ , it didn't bother me.

Stan was unlike any boyfriend I'd ever had-mainly because I always dated douchebags. It was in my DNA to like them-all I'd ever seen brought around the house were sleazes and all-around assholes. I'd grown up thinking that was okay, so that was all I was interested in. Of course, that was until I met Stan and his friends. From day one, Stan had been nice to me-or as nice as that bitch would let him be-and I found myself really attracted to him. He wasn't bad on the eyes, a little scruff on his chin (apparently Wendy hated it but I found that it just added to his good looks), electric blue eyes, messy black hair usually hidden beneath a blue and red beanie. He was tall, taller than I, and I found myself liking the idea of looking up at him and seeing his smile. He smiled easily, at least until his fucking girlfriend put her nose into our friendship and completely took him away from me. I remembered how upset I'd been, and how I'd gotten to know Kenny a little bit since I couldn't talk to Stan without Wendy breathing down his neck. Kenny was pretty great, and I'll admit I had a thing for him when I first started attending South Park Senior High. He was cute, and I'd liked the attention I got from him. Flirts were always a big weakness for me-what girl didn't like feeling pretty around an attractive man? But the more I got to know him, the less I was interested in him romantically-he was a womanizer, and not someone I wanted to tie myself to, relationship-wise. We'd never work out and we both knew it, so we never pursued it. Kenny didn't seem that into me, anyway, so I let it go, content to be friends.

That's when I'd met Michael. He was a junior, which made him a year older than I, cool, handsome, and I found myself interested right away. One of the things that drew me to him was his aloofness-he didn't care about _anything_ , and that's the kind of guy I was used to. I began to hang out with him and his friends (Henrietta, Firkle, and Pete) outside of school, and slowly, over the course of Michael's last two years in school, became close to the 4 of them. His graduation came and went, and I got a ticket to see him walk across the stage to receive the diploma (I could hear him now, "They're fucking making me walk. Conformists."). He got the same from me, at my graduation. He came, surprisingly, but only stayed long enough to congratulate me before going outside the building to smoke. Since we were a smoke-free campus (none of us cared, to be honest) he was escorted from the premises immediately and banned from ever coming back. That day, I'd made sure to toss a lit cigarette on the school's lawn on my way home.

We started dating fairly soon after that, which didn't come as a surprise to _anybody_ , and after a gig one night, Kenny saw me and asked what the hell took me so long. He'd only been teasing, but at that point I thought I was cool, cooler than they were, and threw my drink in his face without a word. I'd heard his muttered string of expletives as I'd walked away. He started to avoid me then, save for bringing his current flings near me to flaunt. Back when we were friends, he used to be a bit more respectful about bringing his women around me-he knew I didn't care who he slept with, since I wouldn't be friends with them anyway. After the first few, I'd figured out his plan, and confronted him about it. He replied with just a cold smile, and that smile told me everything I already knew-he wanted to piss me off like I'd pissed him off. If our friendship meant that little to me, he'd show me just how much he thought of my dislikes. By the time I got good and fed up with Kenny's antics, Michael suggested we move our spot to somewhere else. I readily agreed. If he couldn't find me, he couldn't throw his women in my face, and I would stop feeling so damn guilty. If I only apologized for practically throwing our friendship away, he'd stop and leave me alone, like I wanted him to. I knew it, but my pride wouldn't allow me to. Even though I was at fault, I couldn't muster up the courage to apologize and make amends. I didn't have the heart-or was it that I was ashamed?-to tell the rest of my group that what Kenny was doing was my fault, so I just went along with it. For a while, it was nice. We moved around a few times, beginning a rotation with our group-not because of Kenny, this time, but because it was nice to smoke and talk shit in places different than where we normally did. It was cool, fitting in with the rest of them without having to worry about any interruptions. Michael wasn't a very emotional man, in the least, but the rare occasions he felt like talking me into bed with him made up for all the emotion he lacked during the day.

Then I started to get _bored_.

Michael, Pete, Henrietta and Firkle weren't so interesting anymore. Day after day, it was the same thing, same shit talked about the same people, dressing in black and smoking only what I was _allowed_ to smoke, even though it didn't taste good anymore. We were the same people we talked shit about-we weren't allowed to do anything out of the ordinary, anything Michael said we weren't allowed to do since that would make us part of the world of the "conformists". We couldn't switch anything up (save for our location), for fear that would ruin our image, make us one of the masses. I found myself walking by clothing shops in town on cigarette runs, staring longingly at a pure white dress. Or a blue one. Or purple-purple was my favorite color. Something other than this dull funeral black we continually wore every single goddamn day. Michael had allowed me to sing, since he did genuinely like my voice, and he'd attend every gig, for me. _Only_ for me. At the gigs, part of me wanted to dance around stage, actually _perform_ , but that was something else I couldn't do-I didn't want to upset my dear Michael, did I? So I sat there, singing slower songs that I didn't care for, depending only on the sound of my voice, and perhaps the way I played my guitar, to get my tips.

I started to resent him. Didn't he _ever_ have any fun? How was sitting in the same place, doing the same things, day after fucking day _fun?_ I didn't want to leave him, not at first. He was a huge part of my life by then-4 years of my life had been _wasted_ on this boring asshole, and I could never get them back. Was it abuse? I'm sure it had to be, somehow, and I just hadn't realized it. So I wanted out. I started to lose my temper a little more. I tried harder to be more like them, tried to get back into my old groove and got frustrated when I didn't feel the same as I used to. I started taking it out on other people. On the sparse visits from Kenny, who genuinely ran into us by accident nowadays-he'd given up on his "revenge"-I would _still_ lash out at his girlfriends. I would pick a feature and comment on it, managing to offend them. I had a little sense of satisfaction at that-if I was a bitch on purpose it helped me feel better and not feel as guilty for planning to leave Michael. My comments usually got me a pat on the back or a snicker from my group, and made me feel as if I hadn't lost my touch. And then it was back to boring.

Then Dahlia came along, and it seemed like everything changed. I'm sure it wasn't because of _her_ , it was the way Kenny treated her that really set me off. I was jealous, at first. I admit it. They looked so fucking good together, having _real_ fun together, and I wanted to smash that pretty smile to bits. He had a hungry look in his eyes as he watched her, taking in her every word, soaking up every gesture she made and goddammit, I wanted a man to look at _me_ like that. I wanted to tear her down, make her cry like I had so many before her, and it wasn't even her _fault_. So it had taken me aback when she hadn't cried at my insult-she'd looked the type, even with all her piercings. She'd gotten angry and I could see the flame in her eye that matched the red of her hair. After she made a lame-ass excuse to leave, I'd looked at Kenny. I didn't miss the look in his eye. It was a look of _immense_ satisfaction, a look that told me that I wouldn't scare _this_ one off like the other girls, that _this_ girl had a spine like no other before her. After he left, I told the group I needed to go home-there were things going on in my head I needed to straighten out. With no questions asked, I left and planned my breakup with Michael. If he wasn't the right man, I'd _find_ the right man.

The breakup was the first time I'd seen any _real_ emotion from the group, other than anger. I managed to shock them all, and then...they laughed. They fucking _laughed at me_ , and it _hurt_ and I retaliated. I tore the cross necklace that Michael had given me from my neck, throwing it down in front of him, throwing my lit cigarette in front of him and so very close to spitting in their fucking faces. They knew I was serious, then, but…their apologies didn't matter to me. They could wallow in their own self-pity, in their own _miserableness_ for the rest of eternity, but I wasn't going to be a part of it anymore. I turned on my heel, walking off. Michael caught up to me, but I shrugged him off. I may have been his girlfriend, and cared about him, but I had my pride and I wasn't going to be ridiculed.

I decided to focus on my singing and playing my guitar, and doing my best at gigs to get enormous tips. I wasn't comfortable with flaunting myself in front of the crowd, but I _was_ getting more out there, and I was fucking _enjoying_ myself for the first time in a long time. It was _nice_ , and I felt more free then than I had ever felt in my whole life.

Imagine my surprise when I saw _Stan_ of all people standing at the corner of the stage, looking at me like he'd never seen a woman before, looking at me the way I'd always dreamed that Michael would look at me. My heart beat wildly, and I'd belted out the rest of the song to try to cover my shakiness. My palms were sweaty by the time I got done singing, and disappointingly, Stan had disappeared. It stung, but I knew I'd get over it. After all, he still had that naggy, whiny, bitch of a girlfriend to worry about, didn't he? But the next thing _I_ knew, I was beckoning Dahlia over, asking where Stan was, so I could find him. He'd returned with flowers, and I smiled at him, for real, for the first time in a very long time.

We'd gone out to dinner that night, just the two of us, to get to know each other again. It was my first real date, and part of me regretted not leaving Michael sooner. Though, if I had, I wouldn't be out with Stan right now. My mother had been right, in one of her rare moments-things _do_ happen for a reason.

The night had ended with him walking me home and asking me out on a second date, his hands shaky as he fixed the gray and black beanie that threatened to fall off his head. I accepted, smiling, but trying not to seem too excited-I _did_ still have an image to preserve. When I went to sleep that night, I had a smile on my face.

It was nice to be accepted into the group, especially by Kenny, who still seemed a little cold toward me-or was I just nervous? It took a little time to be nice to Dahlia, who I continued to call "Tablecloth", since she held that against me. I don't blame her, to be honest-I'd hold that against me too. We found that we had a little in common, making it a little easier-I could tell that she wanted to accept me like the guys did, but had a few reservations. I did too, but we needed to get over this-which was all my fault, I know-if we were going to have any fun. We were dating friends-we didn't want to make anything awkward between any of us. Not that I couldn't sense that there was an unexplained tension between Kyle and Kenny, and I had a sneaky feeling it was because of their little beauty of a redhead. But what business was it of mine? I would wait for the sparks to fly, and watch the ensuing explosion.

I grabbed my guitar, after putting it in the case, and walked home alone. It was a short trip, and I arrived fairly soon. I didn't bother telling anyone I was home-just walked in and to my bedroom. They were used to it by now, and didn't say anything to me, either. I wasted time before bed hopping in the shower and surfing the web. It bored me fairly quickly, so I got my guitar out for some quick practice. I strummed a few times as a warmup, before playing the song we were supposed to sing at our next gig. I prayed that I made the right decision in asking Dahlia to sing with us, and hoped our audience liked her voice as well as I did.

* * *

"Good morning," Stan greeted me over the phone the next day.

I grunted at him. "There's nothing good about a morning. What do you need?"

"Kenny wants us to go out. Like, the four of us," he replied. I knew who the unnamed person was.

"And watch them hang all over each other?" I asked, wrinkling my nose. "No, thanks."

"Nah. He swears he'll be a good boy," Stan said, and I heard the laugh that followed. I was assuming they were all together already. When I looked at my clock, I saw that it was nearly noon and groaned. He heard me and laughed. "You just see what time it was?"

"I'm coming, I'm coming," I said grudgingly, and heard Stan chuckling at me. "Where am I meeting you?"

"I'll come pick you up. We're going to Denver today."

"Oh boy," I said sarcastically. "The city, whoopie."

"I'll see you in a bit," he said, and I heard the smile in his voice. "Later."

"Yep," I said, and hung up the phone, dragging myself out of bed. Since we were going to the capital, I didn't have to worry about dressing in my typical black dress-I threw on jeans and a t-shirt, gathering my straight two-tone hair in a loose ponytail. I put on a little makeup, checked my nails for any chips to fix, and I was ready by the time Stan got there. He was driving his little Subaru (don't know what kind, and I didn't really give enough of a shit to find out), and I sat in the front seat. Dahlia and Kenny were piled in the back, and I noticed with a little laugh of my own that she was asleep on his shoulder. He grinned at me, winking and mouthing the words, "She's had a long night."

"Oh, I bet," I said quietly, raising an eyebrow at him. He chuckled, but didn't say another word.

The trip to Denver was quiet, the sound of the radio being most of our conversation on the way there. It took us nearly two hours to get there with traffic in some places, a wreck in another, but Dahlia slept the whole way. I kind of felt for her-I'd heard that Kenny was a monster in bed, so he must have had worn her out. She woke when the car stopped, stretching and looking around, catching my attention in the rearview mirror. "We're here already?" She asked groggily, running her fingers through her hair.

"Yeah, you slept the whole way there," Kenny said with a laugh, stepping out of the car once we got to a parking deck.

"Damn," she laughed. "I didn't realize I was that tired." She looked at us sheepishly. "Sorry if I snore."

Stan laughed as the the three of us got out of the car, and his hand caught mine. He held on with a slight smile, and I hoped Kenny and Dahlia weren't watching too closely-I was about 99% sure I was blushing. I gave him a quick smile of my own and turned my attention to the other couple. No, they weren't watching me _at all_. Kenny was too interested in pestering Dahlia to care about whether I was blushing or not. He held her around the waist, hand on her hip, thumb hooked in a belt loop on her shorts. Looking at us, he gestured around. "Where are we goin' first?" His stomach growled and he laughed. "I'm fuckin' starving."

"I guess we could go get food," Stan said, then turned his attentions to me. "If that sounds okay with you."

I shrugged. "Sure, I suppose."

We had lunch outdoors at a small sandwich place-nothing too expensive, since we didn't plan on eating much. I was assuming that we'd be walking around all day, so I didn't want to fill up and end up feeling sick later on. The rest of the day was spent getting to know each other, and I found that I really did like Dahlia more than I thought I did, and I had a feeling she thought the same about me. We chatted amongst ourselves while the guys had their own conversation-probably about sports or some shit I couldn't possibly care less about. She and I talked a lot about the gig coming up the following day, and she showed me a couple of her YouTube videos as we popped in and out of stores, just really relaxing and enjoying the day. I was relieved that Kenny avoided touching her for most of the day, since she shooed him off every time he tried to interrupt our conversation.

By the time we were ready to leave, all of us were tired, and had at least a couple bags we'd been lugging around all day. We'd thoroughly enjoyed ourselves, however, and I was glad that I'd given Dahlia my number-not that I'd let her know that right away. I didn't really open up to people at first, but she didn't seem to mind. She asked no questions, which was a relief, and I didn't volunteer anything. I wouldn't-not until we were _really_ friends.

Stan walked me to my front door after dropping Kenny and Dahlia off at their respective residences, holding my hand. I looked down at our hands and smiled at him. A smile I had _only_ for him. "So...that was fun. Thanks."

"I'll see you tomorrow?" he asked.

"Yeah, if you're coming to the gig," I said. "I have to be there early to practice, and Dahlia needed me to go over a few things with her, so I'll probably be busy most of tomorrow."

"I see," he said, then grinned at me. "I'll see you then. Goodnight, Clover."

I leaned close to him and pecked a kiss on his cheek. "Goodnight, Stan." At that, I smiled, waved, and went into my house. After a moment or two, I heard his car start, and he left.

* * *

The club was packed the next night, and before I walked on stage I heard the whispers of the people wondering about the "new singer". It took me all of ten seconds to figure out that one of the band members had spread the word, and if you had heard it the way he was telling it, he made it sound like she'd dropped from the heavens. It was fine-he'd also told them that about me, and everyone had gathered, anticipating the outcome of this show. We had a few upbeat songs planned, so that way it wouldn't be _as_ boring.

When the first song started, the crowd silenced and it was so quiet in the club that you could hear a pin drop. I began, followed by Dahlia, and at the end of it, the crowd was letting out an almost deafening cheer. The next song was done by me, solo, since it was slower. Dahlia took it upon herself to dance with some random guy in the crowd before hopping back on stage for the next song. She started clapping her hands when the beat started, yelling out a "Come on, guys, put your hands together!" as she skipped across stage, trying to get the crowd fired up. She was successful, as most of the members started to clap _their_ hands, and I felt the energy rising. She definitely had stage presence (Holy hell, this girl had it all, didn't she? Looks, brains, charisma, had _it all_ ), and she seemed to let loose when in front of a crowd. She was very comfortable, a smile staying on her face as she sang. It made the performances a hell of a lot more fun for me, too, and at one point _we_ were even dancing together. The men in the crowd whistled when we did, and we shared a laugh to ourselves before finishing the song, and our gig, with a couple pyrotechnics rigged to the sides of the stage. It was anything unlike I'd ever done before, so I figured either the club owner or one of my bandmates had put them there after our last gig to get a little flashier. I didn't think it had anything to do with Dahlia-we'd discussed it before so we'd get a few more fans.

Stan picked me up and swung me around after the crowd dispersed, grinning from ear to ear. "Goddamn, that was good. You guys should sing together more often."

"That was the most fucking fun I've had in _years_ ," Dahlia was telling Kenny as they walked up to us, hand in hand. "I've never gotten that excited while I was singing for the YouTubers." She looked at me and grinned. "Even though I had a little stage fright to start with."

"Stage fright, my ass," Kenny snorted.

She stuck her tongue out at him and he gave her a lecherous grin that said it all. I looked away, rolling my eyes at his shamelessness. He was such a pervert. "You know, _some_ people can act. I was scared, but I didn't need to show _them_ I was afraid," she said haughtily.

"Oh? Can your mystery man act?" Kenny teased and that made her blush. It also piqued my interest. Though I knew it was none of my business, I also wanted to know what he was talking about.

"He's not _mine_ ," She said, wrinkling her nose. "And obviously he can-I don't know who the hell he is."

"You have an admirer, Dahlia?" Stan asked, and received a shrug in reply.

"Yes and no," she said, and that was as far as she was willing to go. Stan seemed happy with it, so didn't press the matter farther. Dahlia and I made plans to meet again in the next few days to begin practicing for the next gig. As successful as this one was, and as many tips as we'd gotten, I'd decided she was going to stick with us for as long as she was around.

* * *

Three days later, I flopped down pretty ungracefully in one of the chairs by the stage, exasperated. I'd had it up to my goddamn eyeballs with this _band_ of complete and utter fucking _idiots_. Band practice had always been a hassle, but with a new member, you may as well have been in a fucking zoo. They weren't used to singers bouncing across the stage, they were used to someone sitting stationary on a stool, playing boring songs for a boring audience that really did not give a damn one way or another. Dahlia and her energy messed everything up for them, and so there were missed notes here, wrong chords there, wrong fucking beat, you name it—whatever this band could fuck up, they would, and they would do it _royally_. It was like they didn't remember what to do to make music, so they would just pretend.

Our gig was in two days, and we still didn't even have _one_ song done. I was so over it it was fucking ridiculous. I could tell Dahlia was getting frustrated too-after all, she depended on them too. Without them doing our backup beats, all we had were our voices and while they were good, they weren't _great_ and it wouldn't be enough to warrant many new people coming back to see us. Dahlia tried to keep it light-hearted, but her facade was waning after hours of stupidity. She saw me sitting in the chair and sat down beside me, opening a bottle of soda she'd brought with her. Since it was a smoking-allowed kind of place, I lit a cigarette and pulled an ashtray in front of me.

"It doesn't look like we'll be ready in time."

"That's because we've got a bunch of fucking monkeys trying to act like they can play music," I grumbled.

She laughed at that, nodding in agreement. "Are they normally this bad?"

"Better get used to it, sweetheart." She merely shrugged before I decided to change the subject. "So since it's just us girls, I want to know something."

"Yeah?" She asked, resting her chin on the top of the bottle, her hands wrapped around the body of it.

"You and him, have you…" I let the sentence trail before meeting her eyes. She didn't miss my meaning and her face lit up in a blush, making me laugh. "Ah, that answers my question."

"Wait, no, you've got it all wrong," she said quickly. "We haven't." She bit her lip. "To be honest, he hasn't even _kissed_ me yet."

"Is he sick?"

She laughed at the deadpan way I asked, shaking her head. "I don't know _what_ his deal is, but I am kind of glad that he's treating me differently from all his others." She sighed, then looked at me. "However, it does worry me a little bit."

"Yeah, me too," I said honestly, and caught the sharp look in her eye. "I'm not saying he's got another little fling on the side, but I wouldn't count on him being completely honest with you, either." She nodded and I sighed at the look on her face. "I know you like him-you can't deny it, everybody sees the way you look at him-but you can't be too naive with a guy like him."

"Oh, I know," she said. She looked at me, her face a light pink. "I realize that he's only after me because of the way I look. I mean, what guy _isn't_ into a girl with piercings?" I snorted a laugh at that, knowing full well what she meant. I had run-ins with many a man before they finally just backed off. "But the thing is, Clover...I _really_ want him to like me." I could hear it in her voice, and nodded. I used to feel the same way. Talking with her like this, especially about Kenny, I found that I could relate to her a little more. "I want him to want not just my body, but my mind and stuff, too." Her face nearly matched her hair, but she was grinning at me. "You can tell me I'm stupid now, go ahead."

I shook my head. "You're not stupid. You want what most girls want-a guy that can make her feel like she's the hottest thing he's ever seen, with the added bonus of loving her personality and brains. I gotcha. For what it's worth, it's not easy to make him feel stupid. He's a pretty smart cookie too."

"Thanks," she said with a breath of relief. "I know we aren't exactly friends just yet, but it's really nice talking to another girl about him." She laughed, rubbing the back of her neck. "I have the feeling that Kyle just wouldn't understand how I feel. He'd probably try and talk me out of it-I've seen a few of the dirty looks that he's given Kenny already."

"Since we're on the subject, I think _that_ one has a thing for you, too," I said to her.

"Well, now that you mention it, I think it may explain why he's been sneaking into my window at night and lying to me," she said. She looked away, frowning and shaking her head. "I haven't let on that I know, but he's got to stop or I'll start staying with Kenny."

"If you're feeling inclined, _do_ tell," I said, genuinely interested in _this_ particular story. I'd heard of Kenny sneaking into windows, but never Kyle.

"I can trust you, can't I? Like, not to tell Stan? I don't want Kyle catching wind that I think it's him-I've confided in him about this mystery guy already. I'm afraid that if he knows I think it's him, he'll make it harder on me by coming more often."

I nodded. "I'm not going to tell Stan. It's none of my business to tell everybody about the creeper visiting your room at night." I said the last part lightly, and she smiled at me.

"Thanks." She took a deep breath, looking around the club. The rest of the band members had already left, and so it was just the two of us. She looked relieved. "I guess I should start from the beginning. The first night he came to visit was the first night I got here. It was like he had been starving, and he woke me up with kisses. I ran him off the first time, but for 3 days straight, he was all I could think about. There's a thrill in the mystery, and I, unfortunately, am a girl that is all about the thrill. So I waited on him. It was almost a full week before he came back, and he woke me up the same way as the first time, but we didn't just stop with kisses. I teased him a little bit, got him hard and sent him home. It was a stupid thing for me to do, but I was fucking _proud_ of myself. I invited him back, too, not realizing that the next time he did come back, I'd be dating Kenny." She got very quiet for a moment, and then looked at me. "I thought I was ready to deal with him. I felt so powerful that last time he'd visited, I knew that I would get him _right there_ , and tell him to go home and never come back. But...we didn't stop that night. He kept whispering to me, saying stuff that he knew would get me hot, and we ended up fucking right then." She put her head down on the table. "I feel like shit, and so I decided to tell Kyle, since he always had a pretty good head on his shoulders and could help me with my problems. From the way he answered the questions, I knew he had to be Mysterion."

Mysterion, huh...She'd hate Kenny when she found out. Everyone in these parts knew of "Mysterion"-knew him as the "heroic child" that helped with the BP oil spill that released Cthulhu 10 years prior, and knew him as the perverted young man that would sneak into windows, fuck any single-or married, if they wanted him-woman he could get his hands on and leave them, without even a word. I wasn't going to be the bearer of bad news, but I hoped he put on his big boy pants soon and told her-or he wasn't going to have a girlfriend for long. "Sounds like a real douchebag."

"Yeah," she agreed. "He kind of is. All he wants to do is fuck me. He doesn't give a damn about how _I_ feel, and he doesn't give two shits about Kenny, either. I've begged him to show who he is, but he doesn't." At that, her head shot up, her eyes wide. "Oh, shit."

"What's wrong now?"

"I stood him up," was all she said, before groaning and putting her head down. "We had plans to meet so I'd know who he was, _finally,_ and we ended up going out that day, so I didn't get to meet him. Crap, he'll be furious with me."

"If you already know it's Kyle, why does that worry you so much?" I asked.

"Because I want to know for _sure_. Like, what if it actually _isn't_ Kyle? What if it's Stan? Or Kenny himself? Or, I'm going out on a limb here, cause I don't _actually_ see this happening-what if it's Butters?" She shrugged. "I just want to know who the hell to beat up when I find out who it is-they deserve it for fucking with me like this."

"Call me when the shit goes down-I want to see it," I laughed. My phone began to ring, and I excused myself to answer it. It was Stan, wondering what I had planned for the night, and wondered if us girls wanted to hang out with them at Kyle's for video games. I didn't have a problem with it, even though I knew Cartman would be there-I hated the guy but I didn't know any single person that actually really _liked_ him(save for Butters, who genuinely liked everybody). He was just a really fucking unpleasant guy to be around. I looked at her. "So, Stan wants to know if you wanna go play games at Kyle's?"

"Sure, I'm down," she said with a nod before I relayed the message to Stan. He informed me that everybody was already there, so just come when we got done with practice, and we hung up. We packed up quickly after that, chatting as we walked back to Stan's.

* * *

We all piled up in Kyle's room-his room was bigger, and he kept it picked up so there was tons of room. Kenny lounged on the bed, beckoning Dahlia over when we stepped in. Stan and Kyle held controllers, sitting in the floor and shoving each other with their shoulders as they played some kind of competitive racing game. Cartman sat on the edge of the bed, leaning against the wall, looking at his phone until it was time for him to play. He barely acknowledged us, which is more than we got from Stan and Kyle at that point. The race finally ended, with neither being the victor, and they finally greeted us. Stan grinned, waving me over to him. "Hey, girls. Clover, come sit with me." I obeyed, sitting down on the floor beside him. He laughed. "You know you don't _have_ to sit on the floor."

"Where am I supposed to sit?" I asked.

"Right here," He said, patting his leg. I blinked at him a few seconds before he took my hand and tugged me over to him. "I'm not going to bite you." He smiled. "And besides, you _are_ my girlfriend, right?" I sat between his legs, leaning back against his chest and he put his arms around my waist to hold his controller. He leaned close to my ear and whispered, "Now...isn't this better than sitting by yourself?"

My pulse quickened and I was sure I was blushing when I nodded. "It's...nice," I said finally.

"Aw, come on, you guys," I heard Kenny drawl from behind us. "If you're gonna do that shit, get a room."

"Look who's talking," Kyle muttered good-naturedly.

"Hey, I'm not even touching Dahlia," he said, and I could imagine he had his hands up in feigned innocence. "I'm bein' a good boy."

"For once," Cartman said.

"What can I say-the ladies can't keep their hands off me," the blond replied. "Well, except for one lady."

I heard Dahlia laugh. "Well, it does you good to have someone that denies you." Kyle snorted. "See, Kenny? Kyle agrees too!"

"Yeah, yeah," Kenny sighed, but I could hear the grin in his voice. "It's okay, you'll be all mine one day."

"Oh, whatever," she said back, but she laughed.

Kyle put in another game, and I watched him toss a controller to back to Kenny. Cartman already had his, and obviously Stan did too. "Call of Duty okay with everybody?"

Everyone grunted their approval, and the game began. If I had to be honest, it was really entertaining to watch them play-there were expletives yelled, pushes and shoves (Cartman about got his fat ass knocked in the floor by the competitive Kenny), and all around boys just being boys. It was like a breath of fresh air-Michael and the other goths had _never_ let themselves go like these guys did, and it was just really fun to be a part of it. When Stan tried to get Dahlia and I to play, we objected at first, but at some gentle prodding from Stan (and poor Dahlia was hauled into Kenny's lap, controller thrust into her hands and held there by him-he had his hands over hers and pretty much controlled the character for her. I think it was just an excuse to get her close to him), I started to play. I was terrible at it, and Cartman made a point to slaughter both of us girls, but I actually had a good time playing. Every now and then Dahlia would complain to Kenny about running her into a tree, or a building, or something but she always laughed afterwards, so I figured everything was okay.

The night ended on a good note, and again, Dahlia and I made plans to meet up for practice the following day. I had a plan in my head about what to do in the event that the band _still_ wasn't ready, and part of me hoped it wouldn't come down to it, but I had a good feeling. Rarely I had feelings like this, and it gave me some hope as to whether we'd be successful or not. My gut said we would, and I decided to follow that, for once.

* * *

"You wanna do what, now?"

I gestured to the stage with a grin. "What do you say we get rid of these losers and just perform-me and you?"

"Our gig is in two days," she said as if I'd lost my mind.

"You did it last time in two days," I reminded her. "And these guys are just holding us back. Both of us are tired of not getting a damn thing done around here with these idiots."

"Do you even have any idea of what we'll be doing?" Dahlia said. "Sorry, but I can't just prance around stage-they cheered last time but it'll get boring if there's no music to go along with it."

"You can strip," I joked, and the look she gave me made me think that I'd grown another head or something. I laughed then, shaking my head. "I'm kidding."

She grinned then, and the tension cleared from the air. "Okay, so I'm sorry I doubted you had stuff planned. What do you have running through your pretty little head?" She pointed to her own head then.

"Come with me," I said. "We're going to my house."

The trip there was short, and it was nice to have someone to walk with me. She and I chatted a bit before walking in the door, past my sleeping mother and her stupid boyfriend. We went to my room, and she sat down on my bed while I searched the side of my closet. Upon finding what I was looking for, I pulled both items out and handed it to her. "This," I began. "Is a book of songs. I wrote all of them." I put the electric guitar I'd retrieved on my lap and plugged it into the small amp before strumming a few chords. When I was satisfied with the way it sounded, I looked at her. She was reading the lyrics to all my songs, so enraptured that she had her nose nearly to the paper. I stayed silent until she read the last word, and grinned at the look on her face. "Some hardcore shit, right?"

"They're beautiful," she breathed. "They're so raw, so _real_. Why are you hiding this? It's genius."

"Well, that's why I brought you here. See, I want my songs to be heard." I strummed the beginning of one. "I thought that since we were having so much trouble with those goddamn morons, I'd let you choose a few to sing."

The room was dead silent as she digested the information just given to her. " _Me_? But...it's your material." She shook her head in disbelief. "I mean, I'm not even sure I can get it done in two days."

"That's where you're wrong. You can, and you'll do it well. Aren't _you_ the one who said to give her a song and she'd sing it?" I laughed slightly. "Hell, I need to practice them-some of the songs are still unfinished," I said to her. "You're the only one I know that I trust enough to let sing my songs, so take the book home and a pick a few. Don't let anyone touch it, though, or I'll fucking kill you." I gave her a pointed look and she raised her hands and shook her head. "Besides… I've always wanted to sing them. Michael and I _always_ butted heads on my music, and I never did anything about it. I never had the chance to tell them what I thought of their opinions of _my_ songs, but getting to perform this with you…" I smiled. "It's the biggest fuck-you of them all. Because, you see...These songs were for _him_. And now, I have a new man I'm singing for, and those idiots don't mean a _damn_ thing to me. This is my chance to show the audience I'm made of more than just depression and sadness and pain, and rev it up."

She looked at me, and clasped one of my hands in hers, smiling. "Let's go show those assholes what they'd been missing."

* * *

The next day Dahlia dragged herself into the club, which had been empty save for myself. "Hey, hey, I made it," she said wearily. She had dark circles under her eyes and I made a face.

"You look fucking rough," I said. "What happened?" The look on her face said it all-Kenny had been back in her room as Mysterion yesterday. I winced. "Yeah, so how'd that go for you?"

"He wouldn't fucking _leave_. He makes it so hard to say no." She put her hands to the sides of her head and groaned. "He almost talked me into it again last night. He had my goddamn shirt on the floor before I realized what the hell I was doing."

"Damn," I said. "Sorry." I looked at the stage and back to her. "You gonna be able to practice today?"

"I need something to take my mind off the fucker that keeps sneaking in my window," she said and I tossed her a microphone. "I actually practiced a lot last night after he left, since I couldn't get to sleep." She shrugged. "I think I sound okay, but it's better if we're together."

I walked on the stage and pushed the stool aside to hold the guitar at my waist. I took no time in beginning the first song that was on the list to play, and Dahlia began singing. She walked around the whole club, imagining that there were people there to sing to, and made her way to the front. She looked at me, slipping her mic in to the stand, and holding onto it for a bit, waiting until after the first chorus and second verse to rip it back out and walk to me, putting her back to mine and shaking her ass. It made me laugh, and I ended up fucking up one of the notes, so we had to start over. As soon as I quit playing, she busted out laughing. "Clover, do you like my ass that much?"

"Fuck you," I said good naturedly, laughing with her. "Next time, tell me before you go rubbing all over me."

She laughed again, nodding. She explained to me what her plan was for the song, asking my approval. I agreed with what she wanted to do, and I planned on letting myself go a little if she was going to. She liked to perform more than she was letting on, and I was having a lot of fun, myself.

We practiced for a good three or four hours before stopping to get some food and drink, and we went right back to practicing. That night, when we were satisfied with our progress, we made plans to meet the next day and pretty much just tweak what we had left to do. The next day was pretty much the same, and we'd discussed outfits among other things that weren't concert-related before heading home.

And this was it. The performance night, the one that _really_ counted. The one I'd been dreaming of for the last two years I was with Michael, and the only thing I wished was that he'd be there to see it. Dahlia was a bundle of energy, nervous and giddy, ready to let loose and entertain people. If nothing else, her outfit would grab attention-She wore a tight black tank top with a -gag-plaid pleated skirt. The skirt had black suspenders that she allowed to hang about her hips, and thigh-high black stockings and Converses completed her look. Her hair was back in a messy ponytail, her bangs swept across her forehead and held with a small silver clip. She hadn't done much makeup-wise, just a little eyeliner and mascara, and that was it.

I wore something a little different- A purple tank with a black corset over it, sheer arm warmers with holes all in them, black fingerless gloves. My long legs were covered in black skinny jeans that did wonders for my ass, a studded belt around my hips, and knee high black boots with buckles from top to bottom. My hair was parted between the two colors-the black in a ponytail and the green part I left down around my shoulders. On my wrists I had a couple of thick studded bracelets, along with multiple bangles. Dahlia whistled when she saw me, then pointed at Stan in the crowd, winking at me. I flipped her off, making her laugh.

After a few hushed whispers between the two of us, I heard the cue for us to come out, and when we did, the crowd erupted in cat-calls from the males. I rolled my eyes with a grin, and Dahlia laughed, blowing kisses to them. "So," she began, and everyone quieted. "You saw me last time we performed. For those who don't know my name, hi, I'm Dahlia, and this pretty thing beside me is Clover." I waved. "And tonight, instead of performing with that band that we were with last time, we're doing a night of Clover's originals. I hope you guys are ready, cause we're gonna knock your socks off." She laughed as she finished, getting into position on the stage. I began to play, and she started singing, holding the mic in the stand while the song was quiet. She smiled at the crowd, throwing a wink every now and then, emerald eyes continually searching for one person, the only person that mattered to her-Kenny. When the song picked up, she did as we'd practiced, walking around the club, weaving in and out of people, and avoiding the occasional roaming hand. At the end of the song, she walked back on stage, belting out the last note before we got ready for the next one. That one was slower, so she didn't move as much, and the last couple she just danced with me on stage as she sang and I played. The crowd loved every minute of it and by the time everyone had pretty much cleared out, our tip jar was overflowing with ones, fives and I could swear up and down I'd seen a couple hundreds in there. Stan surprised me with a kiss and flowers when he came up to me, and I'm sure that I was blushing by then. I watched Kenny yank Dahlia to him, kissing her fiercely. From the way he kissed her, I had the feeling that it told her everything he thought about her performance, and the men she'd touched as she walked around the room. I looked away, the sight making me a little uncomfortable-kisses that hot should be saved for the bedroom.

A slap rang out in the club, the sound sharp and clear, even over the music that was playing. My head snapped over toward the sound to see a furious Dahlia and Kenny with his hand to his face, looking at her, and _oh my_ _God_ he looked so _guilty_. There was no doubt in my mind that she knew now, and she had every right to be hurt. Cartman was roaring in his laughter as he filmed the couple, standing out of their line of sight. Why he'd even pulled the camera out to catch this was beyond me-he'd had to have caught them kissing too. Stan moved to help his friend, but I caught his arm and shook my head. This was _her_ battle to fight, whether it was private or public. If I hadn't known the whole story I would have thought the slap was a completely unnecessary overreaction but...no. He deserved what he got coming to him, and a hell of a lot more.

No one spoke for a long time, the couple just looking at each other. I saw a tear roll down Dahlia's cheek as she gritted her teeth and finally turned her back on him. His eyes widened-he'd finally seen what kind of damage his foolish game had done. He reached out and grabbed her wrist, making her turn to look at him. She gave him a look that would have burned him to ash had she the ability to, yanking her arm away and spitting an, "I hope you're proud of yourself."

"Wait, Dahlia, I can explain-"

She barked a sarcastic laugh at him. "Fuck off, Kenny. Or should I call you _Mysterion_?" She balled her hands into fists. "There's nothing _to_ explain. You obviously had a fucking _ball_ tricking me like that, instead of being honest with me. At the very least, I would have thought you'd come to bed with me like a _real_ man." At that, she walked away, and he didn't try to stop her.

I heard a low whistle from Stan as Kyle walked past Kenny, shoving the blond with his shoulder as he passed. I followed behind him, Stan staying behind to talk to Kenny-presumably to get the whole story. Dahlia stopped when Kyle got to her, touching her shoulder and I hung back a little bit. They didn't seem to notice me, and Dahlia turned to Kyle, looking at him with that same look she had given Kenny. "And you, Kyle...you _knew_."

And she was gone.

* * *

Wow, I didn't remember the chapter being that long... hope you guys enjoy it! :) Chapter 5 may take a little longer to upload than these last few chapters-I need to do a little editing, and don't have much free time. But don't worry, it'll be up soon!


	5. Chapter 5

Hey, all! Chapter 5 was shorter than I remembered so I didn't have to edit it much. I hope you enjoy it!

* * *

CHAPTER FIVE

Kenny's POV

I watched the video over and over again, watching her face as the realization hit her of who I _was_ , and every time I saw that flash of rage in her eyes and the lightning quick speed of her hand hitting my face, my chest clenched painfully. I didn't _intentionally_ watch it so many times-everyone that I knew, all my friends, all the women that I'd previously been with were watching that fucking thing, and I saw it everywhere I went. It was some huge fucking deal to everyone, since I never got told no, I always got any woman I'd had my eye on, all except for _one_. I hadn't meant to kiss her last night, it had just happened and when I realized what a mistake I made by lying to her, she had already stormed off.

My heart ached in a way that I had never felt before-not even my many deaths in the past could match this ache, and for the first time in my life, I had no fucking clue what to do. She wouldn't answer the phone whether I called or texted her, wouldn't reply to my messages on Facebook even though I was still "friends" with her and saw that she was active. I'd really hurt her, and cursed my selfish, stupid ass for even thinking it was a good idea. I hadn't realized how much I wanted her-not for sex, no, I wanted her _heart_ , her soul, her brilliance, talent, I wanted it _all_ , and wanted to see it every fucking day for the rest of my miserable fucking life.

I didn't know just when I'd fallen head over goddamn heels for her, I just knew I _had_ , and now she was on her way out of my life if I didn't get my head out of my ass and get her back. I didn't know how Kyle would react to my coming to his house to see her, but from the way he'd pushed me on his way out of the club and the scolding that had come afterward, I didn't think that I'd be very welcome. I'd expected him to be angry at me, smug, even because he _knew_ how this would turn out. Kyle was a fuckin' genius-he knew how everything would play out before it did, and he'd known about this outcome from the beginning. The way he acted last night had told me it all-he'd tried to warn me and I didn't listen. He had a sick sense of satisfaction from this, and it pissed me off even though I knew I deserved it.

I laid back on my bed, putting a hand over my face, and with the other hand grabbing a pack of cigarettes that I'd stashed for times like these. I didn't smoke often, only when I was stressed, and let's face it-I wasn't stressed a lot. I didn't like to let myself get like this; life was too damn short. I snorted to myself at that thought. Yeah. _Life._ Life was fucking me by _giving_ me life, after life, after goddamn life, and I was sick of dying. Immortality fucking _sucked_ , especially if nobody knew, remembered, or even fucking _cared_ at all. I'd lost count of how many times I'd died over my 19 years, in front of my friends or by myself, it didn't matter because no one _cared_. I lit my cigarette and took the first drag, holding the smoke in my lungs for a few seconds longer than necessary.

"You're smoking again, Kenny," said a familiar voice from the doorway.

I looked between my fingers at Karen, and sighed, hauling myself up and making room for her to sit on my bed with me. I tried to smile at her, holding the cigarette between my first two fingers and flicking ash on the chipped tile floor. "Hey."

"Something's wrong, isn't it?" She asked gently, brushing my bangs to the side. She looked concerned. "You never smoke unless something's bothering you."

"I'm fine," I lied, taking another drag. "Don't worry about me, sweetheart. I'm alright." I gave her a teasing grin. "I'll live."

She didn't smile like she normally did, her eyebrows drawing down as she frowned. "Kenny, I'm not a kid anymore. You can talk to me, you know."

I ruffled her hair. "Sorry, I forget," I said to her. It was true-no matter how old Karen got, I'd always see her as that dirty little 8-year-old. She was 17 now, as beautiful on the inside as on the outside-I thanked God that she didn't turn out like our parents-with a heart as big as the world. She made me feel like I was a million feet tall, and even at her age now, would come to me first, instead of our brother Kevin or our drunkard of a father. Karen was my baby, and I'd die for her a million times before I let anything to happen to her. I'd kill for her much faster than that.

"It's a girl, isn't it?" she asked then, her brown eyes meeting mine. "That pretty girl from the East Coast you talk to?"

"Dahlia," I said with a heavy sigh. "Yeah."

"You love her, don't you?" I stayed quiet, not wanting to say yes, but not wanting to say no, either. She snorted at my silence, resting her head on my shoulder. She knew me-even if I was, it would be a little hard to admit it after what I'd done to her. "What did you do to her, Kenny?"

I put my head in my hands, holding the cigarette away from my hair. "You don't wanna know, Karen." She knew I hated to talk about my women with her. The longer that she could stay innocent, the better, I always thought. I never wanted to discuss what I did in the privacy of someone else's bedroom, even though as she got older, she started to understand. She knew that when I went out at night, I was going to meet a lady and nine times out of ten, I came home smelling like alcohol, smoke and sex. "I think I ruined my chances with her forever."

"I remember you sneaking out in the guardian angel costume," she said quietly. "You hid it from her, didn't you?"

"I'm a shitty boyfriend, huh," I said with a wry grin that probably looked more like a grimace. "I wanted her when she got here, and for some fuckin' reason thought it was a good idea to sneak in and kiss her until she gave in...and make her think she cheated on me with someone else." My chest started hurting again and I realized that time I was holding my breath. I took another long drag on the cigarette and let out a pained laugh. "She was furious when she found out. I'm sure you've seen that goddamn video. Fuckin' Cartman."

"I saw it," she said. That was all she said for a while, probably carefully wording her thoughts as to not hurt my feelings. She never wanted to upset me, but I knew she knew that I deserved it this time. "I think you should talk to her."

"Fat fuckin' chance," I snorted.

"At least she'll know you're _trying_ ," Karen said then, her voice getting a little more stern. "You can't just sit here and feel sorry for yourself or you're never going to get her back. You know that, too, don't you?"

I sighed again, and smiled at Karen, whose head was still on my shoulder. "I guess you're right. So, smart one, what do I need to do to make her see that I love her?"

"So you _do_ love her," she said excitedly, smiling widely. She raised her head off my shoulder.

I shrugged, finishing the cigarette and flicking the butt in a bucket I used for an ashtray. "I guess I do."

"She must be special," she said.

"You better believe it," I said, then kissed the top of her head like I'd always done. "But not more special than you, Karen. I love you."

"Oh, stop it," she said with a laugh. "But, I love you too, Kenny."

I grinned, tucking the pack of cigarettes in my pocket as I left. I had a feeling I may need them.

* * *

I smoked three cigarettes before I got to Kyle's house, and my hands were _still_ shaking when I knocked on his door. When Dahlia answered the door for Mrs. Broflovski, I forgot my words, and also had the door slammed in my face. I knocked again. Kyle answered then, giving me a hard look and wrinkling his nose. "Ugh. Have you been smoking again?"

"I, ah…" I trailed off and rubbed the back of my head. "Yeah. Just cigarettes." I couldn't really think enough to form coherent sentences...not with her being so close to me, and I couldn't even _talk_ to her. "I got nervous." I sounded _so fucking lame_.

"She says she hates you."

I winced at that, my heart thumping painfully against my ribs. I raked a hand through my hair and I felt like I needed another cigarette. Or a hundred. Or a hundred joints. Yeah. That would be better. "Fuck."

"Dude," Kyle said, stepping out of the house and close to me, putting a hand on my shoulder and looking at concern. "You _do_ love her."

I looked at him. I saw the look in his eyes and felt irrationally angry. "I don't need your goddamn pity." I yanked another cigarette out of my pocket and almost couldn't get it lit. The tips of my fingers were slightly burned due to the matches I used and I cursed, leaving the cigarette in my mouth and shaking my hand. "I-I gotta go."

"Kenny," he called after I started walking away. He caught up to me after I stopped, and I looked at him, cigarette hanging from between my lips. "If this means anything to you, I told Cartman to take down the video when I saw it."

"Fat fuck's not gonna do it," I said with a shrug. "Damage has been done, and I don't give two shits anymore." I was lying again. I'd gotten really damn good at that lately.

"Sorry, dude," Kyle said, and this time, it was genuine. I didn't get angry at that-I knew he did feel bad for the situation, but not for me.

"Don't worry about it," I said, putting my hands in my pockets. "I'll figure out a way to work this shit out." I gave him a small smile. "You think you can talk to her for me?"

"She doesn't want to talk about you; believe me, I've tried," he said. "She was crying when I went to check on her this morning, but she wouldn't tell me anything." He sighed. "Don't think you're the only one she's pissed at."

My eyes shot to his as I took the cigarette from my mouth. "What the hell are you talking about? She can't get mad at _you_."

"That's what you think," he said. "She's treating me like a fucking leper or something. She's mad at me because I didn't give you away, and pretty much lied to her. My fucking mom thinks that something went down between _us_ and she won't get off my ass about it."

"Damn," I said softly. "Sorry to make your life hell, too." I knew how much he cared about her, and felt a little guilty for dragging him into this mess along with me. "If you can get her to calm down enough to mention me, tell her I miss her already."

"I'll try, man," Kyle said. "I have to get her to forgive _me_ first."

I laughed. "Good luck." After a few more minutes of chatting, we parted ways. My hands still shook like a motherfucker, and I could feel a drink in my future.

Kyle texted me that night, letting me know that the girls had a gig in a couple of days, if I wanted to come. He told me that he wasn't going to tell Dahlia that I was coming, if I decided to go (and who the hell was I kidding, I'd grab a fuckin' front row seat if that's what it took for her to notice me), and I agreed that that would be a good idea. Even if she knew I'd be there, she wouldn't cancel, but she'd sure as shit avoid me. I couldn't blame her-I was being a dick, and she was putting me in my place. It was noted and if she ever took me back, I'd never do something so goddamn stupid ever, ever again.

* * *

Karen had come back after I got home, wondering how it went, and from how heavy the smell of smoke was on my jacket, she knew the answer. She then made me strip before throwing my clothes in the barely-working washing machine we owned. It got the clothes clean, so I figured it was still okay. I went and got a quick shower at Karen's command, and lounged around my room in a towel for a good part of the afternoon. I grabbed another cigarette before Drill Sergeant Karen came back to check on me, finally able to stop my shaking limbs after hours of jumpy nerves.

"Kenny, your clothes are done," Karen called from my doorway, peeking her head in. She just as quickly left, seeing the way I was sprawled on my bed. The towel was still there, but not covering much of anything. "And put some clothes on!"

I laughed. "Fine, fine." I pulled on some jeans I had laying around and a tank top, my house being too damn hot to wear anything else. I walked to the rickety dryer we had and took my clothes out to put on my bed. They'd get put away later...probably. If I felt like it. I browsed the Internet for a few minutes, trying to figure out just what the hell to do today since I couldn't go bother Dahlia, and came up blank. I gritted my teeth in frustration. She'd changed _everything_. I wasn't the same person anymore-she was always on my mind. I was always thinking of new ways to make her smile, thinking of ways to have her fall as hard for me as I had her, and I hadn't realized just how much time I'd waste during the day to do it. I missed her... My heart started to ache again, and this time I raided my dad's liquor cabinet.

The rum, fuckin' expensive shit (that's why we were so damn poor) called my name, so that's what I began with. It made the ache in my chest go away, at least for a little bit, so I continued to drink. I wanted the alcohol to give me the courage to sneak in her window and kiss her again, make her fall in love with me. It was a stupid idea, but since when did drunk men do _anything_ smart? After half a bottle of the shit and a swimming head, I set out for Kyle's house. Or, tried to. My mother caught me and decided that it was a fucking _great_ time to ask me about anything and everything she could possibly even think to ask, and it was pissing me off. She was doing this on purpose, wasn't she? She could probably smell the alcohol on me by now, but was either too distracted by her own dumb questions or cared too little to ask about it. I didn't care, I just wanted _out_.

"Is somethin' wrong, son?"

I looked at my mother, who I'd never been close to, and shook my head. "I'm _fine_." I spat the last word without meaning to, I was just sick and fucking tired of people asking me if I was _okay_. No, I'm not, but I'm not letting _you_ know, you nosy bitch.

"Don't you talk to me like that," she said, narrowing her eyes at me.

I sighed loudly, dramatically, and turned my back to walk away. I wasn't getting out tonight after all, and in hindsight, it was probably a good thing. The rum was going to my head since I hadn't gone out drinking in a while, and there was no telling what I would do. If I had showed up at Kyles house after drinking like this, and tried to convince Dahlia to talk to me, I probably wouldn't be able to stand it and I'd have to touch her, and I'd end up getting myself arrested. Once I got back to my room, the bottle I'd been drinking from shone like something from the heavens and I picked it up. Knowing I shouldn't have, I didn't listen to that little voice that always told me to stop while I was ahead, and drank about ¾ of the rest of it. I felt better, for a little while, and for a second there I didn't remember just _why_ I was upset.

And then it came back to me, and for one night, I decided to wallow in my own fucking feelings and miserableness. At one point I remember looking through the contacts on my phone and calling Butters, who was still a pretty great friend even though we rarely talked anymore.

"Hello, this is Butters," he answered cheerily.

"Butters, how do you get a girl to fall in love with you?" I asked straight off. Thank you, rum, for not letting me beat around the bush.

"Huh? Kenny?"

"How do you do it, dude?"

"W-well, I dunno," he said slowly.

"C'n you come over? I needa talk to you, and my arm's gettin' tired holdin' the fuckin' phone," I said. My voice slurred just a little.

"Are you drunk?"

"Hell yeah," I said, holding up the almost-empty bottle. "I gotta talk to you, dude, I don't know what the fuck to do."

"Well, okay," he said slowly. "Give me just a minute to get dressed and I'll come over."

I grinned to myself. "Thanks." We both hung up, and I finished off the bottle of rum. I tossed the empty glass bottle underneath my bed and contemplated getting up and getting a new one. I knew that I needed to be _somewhat_ coherent when Butters came over, so I actually listened to the little voice that told me I didn't need anymore. Besides, Butters hadn't changed at all since we were kids so me being totally trashed would probably make him uncomfortable. I tended to get a little...handsy when drunk. With guys or girls, it didn't matter, and there was _one_ incident that had gotten Butters and I stuck in a closet with booze (thanks to Cartman's stupid ass) and to make a long story short, let's just say that Butters tended to leave a distance between us ever since. Not that I had sex with him-I didn't _remember_ having sex with him but to be fair I didn't actually remember a lot about that night-so I'm pretty sure I was just copping feels, and it made the poor kid uncomfortable. I'd gotten a tad bit better as I got older but between the ages of 14 and 17 everything was fair game, and there were a lot of things now that I wish I could do differently. Those were the years I died at least once a week, whether it was from a drug overdose, asphyxiation (I used to enjoy partners choking me, but I got out of that when more than one woman killed me because I couldn't tell her to stop), jealous exes, or freak accidents. True, they were some of the best years because I'd started using my immortality to my full advantage-if I couldn't die then I would do whatever the hell I wanted to do.

Before I realized it, Butters was at my door. I called for him to come in and he sat down next to me, chuckling nervously (not because of me, the guy was always a bundle of nerves, and I think it had a lot to do with the way he was raised and the way Cartman treated him). "Heya, Kenny," he said. "What's wrong?" His accent hadn't changed as he'd gotten older, the soft southern twang still there. Who the hell knew where he'd gotten it from-his parents didn't talk that way.

"So, how do you do it?" I asked, getting back to the question at hand.

"Oh, I dunno," he said. "I've never made a girl fall in love with me before."

"You have tons of girls in love with you," I said, and my voice held more of an accusation than I meant it to.

"Well, uh, to be fair, Kenny, so do you," he said, light ice blue eyes meeting mine. "Is this cause'a that video that Cartman put on the internet?"

"Somewhat," I said. "I fucked up real bad, Butters, and Kyle said she hates me."

"What'd ya do?"

"Lied," I said softly. "I played with her emotions." I shook my head, more sober than ever now, and I thought twice about going to get that other bottle of alcohol. Some kind of vodka or something, I think it was. "I would sneak in her room and toy with her, and during the day I'd pretend it didn't happen or some shit, 'n do it all again a few days later."

"Why'd you do it?" Butters asked. That's one thing I really liked about the guy-he didn't judge-or at least he didn't judge me. I'd called him many a night bitching and whining about something (usually a woman) but he never judged me for it, just helped me the best he knew how.

"I don't fuckin' know," I said in a raw whisper, looking at the floor. I lit a cigarette then, knowing that I'd smoked almost a full pack today alone. "I thought it'd be a fuckin' _great_ idea to say, hey, let's go fuckin' sneakin' in her window, wake her up 'n fuck 'er, then leave. But when I got there the first night, she smacked me with a goddamn pillow and threw me out." I looked at him out of the corner of my eye. " 'N you know me, dude, I don't fuckin' _like_ the word _no_ , so I went back, and she sent me home with a fuckin' hard-on from hell, the damn thing wouldn't go away for _nothin'_. So, I thought, hey, I actually fuckin' like this girl, a _lot_ , and not just cause she was playin' hard to get. So I asked her out. She just kinda held my hand and blushed a lot, so I guess that was a yes, and we started hangin' out more. I went to Kyle's that night and we humped like goddamn animals. She told me not to come back but that time I knew I wouldn't be able to stop comin' back to her-she had somethin' I wanted. I realized, she's more than just a great body, she's a really great _person_ too, and I started thinkin' that maybe I liked her a little more than I was lettin' on. Maybe I _loved_ her. Maybe I wanted to see that fuckin' look in her eyes when she woke up next to me every day of my life. Maybe I wanted to come home to a gorgeous thing like her every day when I got home from work, or whatever the fuck I was doin' so we'd have a place to live. Maybe I just wanted _her_ , nobody else, for the rest of my goddamn life, and I didn't _need_ the sex, the drugs, the cigarettes, the booze, I just needed _her_ , and by the time I realized that, she was slappin' me in my fuckin' face for lyin' to her." The words just wouldn't _stop_ , and before I knew what I was doing, I had told Butters the whole story. He just sat there for a while, saying nothing, waiting on me to finish my drunken rant, and I raked both hands through the blond mess of hair on my head. "Fuck, dude, I'm sorry, I don't know what the hell to do and I've never fuckin' felt like this before."

"Geez," he said softly when I was done. "The only thing I can think for you to do is just go and tell her, Kenny."

"She won't fuckin' talk to me," I said. "She slammed the door in my face when I went to see her today." I took a deep drag off the almost-forgotten cigarette. "I've tried everything."

"Well," Butters began timidly, his blush reaching the tip of his ears. "You could try bein' romantic, y'know." At my look, his blush got darker and he started rubbing his knuckles together like he always did. "Like, sendin' 'er flowers or somethin'. Or, or singin' to her, or somethin' like that."

"She'll think I've lost my goddamn mind," I said, but began to see the brilliance in his words. After all, isn't this what the heroes in all those sappy, crappy romance novels did for _their_ heroines? They made complete and total fools of themselves if _they_ made mistakes to try to win her back and the more I thought about it, the more the idea appealed to me. I met his eyes, giving him a grin and slinging my arm around his shoulders in a hug. "You're a fuckin' genius, you know that?"

He smiled at me. "You'll get her back, I know you will."

"Thanks, dude. I owe ya," I said. I grinned and pinched his cheek. "Hell, if I were any drunker, I think I'd kiss you." His face turned 10 shades of red before he began to stutter and shake his head, causing me to burst into laughter. I moved my arm from around his shoulders. "Don't worry, I won't."

"Make sure ya let me know what happens, okay, Kenny?" Butters asked, standing. He walked to the doorway. "I gotta be gettin' back home-I have work early in the mornin'."

"Yeah," I said, leaning back in bed, finishing my cigarette and closing my eyes. I began to make my plans to romance my fiery little ginger, and the first thing on my list was to call Stan first thing in the morning. If _anyone_ , he'd know how to do it and I still needed lessons. My expertise with ladies was not romance, it was _pleasure_. I knew how to get a woman to scream my name with just my voice and the things I whispered to them, but to actually _win_ someone was a whole different ball game.

* * *

Drunk Kenny was fun to write. Thanks for reading! :)


	6. Chapter 6

Heya! I hope you're liking it so far.

* * *

CHAPTER SIX

Kyle's POV

I was losing her again. I could see it from the way she looked at him again, and past the anger I could see that it was killing her that she wasn't with him anymore. It had been a whole week since the shit went down and he'd stopped at _nothing_ to get her back. She lashed out at him, and I'd never seen her so venomous-I'd heard of the infamous redhead temper, but I'd never seen it in action (with anyone other than myself, obviously), and Kenny's little firecracker was holding a grudge. She'd finally warmed back up to me, but still denied wanting him back, no matter how much her eyes contradicted it. I knew it wouldn't be much longer until she went back to him and forgave him, and Kenny knew it as well. He worked hard, I had to give him some credit for that. The last time he made any moves, he sang to her, and the look on her face said it all-had he not been outside, singing to her window like some kind of cheesy actor, she would have forgotten why she was angry to begin with. I remembered her mentioning to me once before, kind of offhand, that she liked when guys sang to her, and if they had a good voice-forget about any kind of resistance.

So, imagine my surprise when she came to my room in her pajamas, whiskey bottle clutched in her right hand, and after walking in the room and closing the door, she leaned back against it and threaded her fingers through her bangs, swiping them back from her forehead. She looked at me from and gave me a slight grin. "Hey, Kyle."

"Dahlia?"

"Kyle, I've been crying," she began, walking toward me with a little bit of a sway of her hips-or that may have just been the alcohol. She looked at me with red eyes as she sat down on my bed, taking another drink of the whiskey, and offered itto me after a grimace at the burn. "Want some?"

"What's wrong?" I asked, ignoring the bottle of whiskey.

"I miss him." She looked down at her her hands, wrapping them around the bottle. "I started to think that maybe he's being honest, then I remember guys like him aren't honest. I want him back but I can't trust him. Like, what if he goes to someone else like that while he's with me?" She looked back at me then and let out a little 'heh'. "I'm being stupid, aren't I?"

"I don't think so," I said. _That's because I don't want you going back to him._

"You sure you don't wanna drink with me?" She said, offering the bottle again. "There's plenty to go around."

"Where'd you get that?" I asked her, after declining her offer.

"Oh, well Clover said her mom had a stash around the house, so she gave it to me. I'm supposed to save it for when she comes over to do shots, but I got really sad and I'm usually a really happy drunk," she said.

I should have known. "Look, Dahlia, you probably should put the alcohol down…"

"I can't," she whispered. "I don't want to. If I stop drinking I may go back to him and I don't want to do that-I want to be here with you cause you always know the right thing to say to make me feel better." She shook her head. "I want you to talk me out if it, tell me how bad of an idea it is. Tell me that he's shit, _anything_ to make me want to stay here instead of finding his house and sneaking in _his_ window." I didn't know what to say. On the one hand, I should send her back to her room. On the other, the decision I chose, I could open my arms to her and let her cling to me. All this was for was comfort, no more, no less, and I didn't listen to the voice telling me that it was a mistake. She buried her face against my chest, still cradling the bottle to her. She looked up at me. "Thank you."

"I don't like seeing you like this," I said. "Why do you let him get to you like that?"

"Because I love him," she said. "But I don't want to." She pulled back for a moment, the most serious expression on her face. "Kyle, help me."

"I don't know how to help you," I said. "There's nothing I can do to help you. This is something that you have to deal with on your own."

"Yes, you can," she insisted. "You _can_ help me forget him, Kyle." Her green eyes glittered as she met my eyes.

"But how-"

I was cut off by her lips on mine, and everything in my being screamed at me to stop now, while I was ahead, that she wasn't in her normal state of mind, but my body didn't listen. After the initial shock, I wrapped my arms around her, my fingers tangled in her hair. _Fuck yes, I'll make you forget him._

* * *

The next morning I woke up beside the still-sleeping, still-naked Dahlia, and my face burned in a blush. I remembered the events of the night before, remembering the way she'd asked me to help her forget him, how her kisses felt, how the touches felt. No fucking _wonder_ Kenny wanted her back-I wouldn't mind having a woman like that in my bed every day, either. I felt guilty, knowing that Kenny was one of my best friends, and I'd just fucked the girl he loved, but...in a way I was _proud_ , proud that she'd willingly let me do something that she wouldn't allow Kenny, not now, at least.

She began to stir, and rolled over, seeing who I was through still-glassy eyes. They widened and she sat straight up, holding the blankets to her chest. "K-Kyle?"

"Yeah," I said softly.

"W-we...did we…?" She couldn't get her words out and blinked at me, stuttering.

"Yeah, we did," I finally said.

She looked down at her lap, raking her fingers through her hair. Bedhead looked good on her. " _Fuck_. I knew that I shouldn't have taken that whiskey from her." She shook her head. "I mean...I remember some of it..."

"You asked me to help you forget him, then you kissed me," I said. "I didn't stop you. I know I should have." I had no excuses. "I probably should come clean with you, Dahlia."

"What do you mean? You didn't do anything-last night was all me and I'll own it. I knew exactly what I was doing, even if I don't exactly remember it today."

"No, what I mean is...I like you, too."

"...What?" she asked with a little laugh of disbelief. "You don't…"

"I do," I said. "I have, for a long time."

"Kyle…" She looked pained. "I'm so sorry...If I would have realized it sooner, I would never have gotten involved with Kenny. I liked you too...and then when _he_ started _his_ bullshit, before I knew what was happening, I was in love with him."

I nodded. "I know." I slipped on some boxers and jeans, getting up to leave the room so she could dress. "I've already accepted that, Dahlia."

She bit her lip. "I'm sorry," she whispered again. I smiled at her before I left the room. She came out after a few minutes, straightening herself up and going straight into her bedroom to put on an outfit for the day.

We yelled a goodbye to my mom before leaving the house. We'd had plans to meet Stan, Clover, Cartman, Kenny and Butters, who actually had a day off, at a movie today just to chill. We needed it, and I hoped no shit went down today. But, with Cartman around, there's always _some_ kind of drama that starts, and today was no different.

* * *

Dahlia and I had been careful not to talk about our secret, at least around Kenny. I'd pulled her aside to ask her if she planned to tell him about it, and somehow Cartman heard it. He walked toward us, chest puffed out, shoulders thrown back and looking down his nose at us. There was no doubt in my mind that he _knew_ something and he couldn't wait to throw it in our faces.

"I want you to be my girlfriend," He said to Dahlia after the movie, when Kenny was in the bathroom. Clover, Stan, and Butters were all talking amongst themselves, paying no attention to the three of us.

"Fuck that, I'd rather go back to Kenny," she snarled at him. "Why the hell would you even _suggest_ something like that?"

"Because," he began, throwing an arm around her shoulders with an evil grin on his face. "I heard you."

"Heard what, fat boy?" she demanded.

He pointed at me, and I tensed up. I didn't know how he'd managed to sneak behind us and hear us without one of us noticing, but he _had_ and if I knew Cartman he'd blackmail us. He'd dangle that over our heads so we'd do whatever he wanted, and he'd probably end up giving us away anyway _._ I hated trusting the manipulative bastard, but I also didn't want to piss Kenny off, so I let it go for the time being. "What do you want?" I asked him in a low voice.

"Her."

"But _why?_ " she asked him. "There's nothing about me you like or want, Cartman."

"Kenny's wrapped around your finger, and I wanna piss him off," he said back, a broad smirk on his face.

"...Really?" she said, raising an eyebrow at him. "After finding out about something that will hurt him if he knew, you wanna go and pretend to like me just to see him jealous."

He grinned at her. "Bingo," he said. "Kenny's always got everybody he wanted, and I don't know why because he's _poor_."

Dahlia gritted her teeth at him. "Well, maybe because he's got a great personality, unlike _some_ people I know."

"Some great personality-you hate his fuckin' guts," Cartman said.

"I hate _your_ fuckin' guts," she snapped. "How the hell do you expect this to work? Everyone knows I can't stand you, and you hate me too. Kenny'll see through your act. He's not stupid."

"If you don't want me telling on you," he gestured to both of us. "You'll figure it out."

At that, he walked away.

* * *

The display was so fucking _believable_ , and it made me sick to my stomach to know what Kenny must be going through. Cartman held Dahlia's hand, put his arm around her, made a big show in front of Kenny to show that Dahlia was, in fact, _his_ , and I could see what it was doing to the blond. He was beginning to lose it, and through the whole time I'd known him, never seen him smoke this much. His hands shook in his rage, and he gave her a look that could have melted glaciers. She'd merely smiled at him until he turned his back, then wiped her hands off with a mountain of sanitizer, then raked her hands through her hair. I never missed the grimaces on her face that said she didn't _want_ to hurt him like this.

She would come to my room at night, to talk-there wasn't another drunken incident, and I thanked God for _that_ , because if there was I'd never be able to forgive myself (and I wasn't completely positive I'd be able to give her back to Kenny). We discussed what should be done, whether we should just come clean to Kenny-after all, weren't we being as underhanded as he had been? Essentially we were lying to him, and even though they weren't together anymore, I still felt guilty. We talked for hours, finally realizing that she didn't _have_ to keep doing this to keep our secret. It was tearing her up, and she was to the point of throwing up multiple times. We finally decided to tell him one night after a gig, just pull him aside, confess what we'd done and beg forgiveness for our actions-Kenny had done enough to prove how he felt, and it was shitty of us to hide it like that.

She pulled Cartman aside the next day, telling him of the plans and he raged. I mean, face red, teeth gnashed, fists balled kind of rage, and I was afraid the prick was going to hit her. He was throwing a tantrum, much like he had when we were children and didn't play his stupid games. He didn't hit her, of course, but I knew that he had something up his sleeve.

The gig the following night was packed-pretty much all of South Park was squeezed into this little bitty building, and that's when he made his move. He pushed his fat self up to the stage, yanked the microphone from Dahlia's hand and pushed her to the side. She glared daggers at him and I could have sworn she reached for the mic stand to brain him with it. The audience got quiet when Cartman began to speak. "Hello, South Park," he said. "I'm sure you all know Dahlia by now-say hello, Dahlia-and I just wanted to _tell_ you, that she's been fuckin' every guy she can get around! First was Kenny-there he is, right in back, stand up, Kenny-then it was Kyle, and then it was me!" He grinned widely at that, and from the mortified look on Dahlia's face, I knew Kenny had reacted. He laughed at her expression. and held the mic out of arm's length. "And I just thought I needed to let you know in case she tries somethin' funny with _you_ guys! Y' know, cause she's a cock-suckin' whore. Thanks, bye." He switched the mic off before dropping it onstage, and hopped down proudly. He was pleased to have embarrassed her in front of not only Kenny, but the whole fucking _town_. No one said a word as Kenny met him in the middle and threw the first punch.

I couldn't hear what was said at first, but as more fists went flying, Kenny's voice got louder and louder. Expletives were thrown every other word, the occasional "Dahlia" and that was about it. I stepped up to try and stop Kenny, but the wild look in his eye made me take a step back. There was no way I was going to step into _that_ to save Cartman. Sorry, but the fat bastard was on his own. I couldn't say he didn't deserve it.

"Hey, that's enough," Clover said finally, jumping off the stage to go pull Kenny off Cartman. "That's _enough_ , Kenny!"

He dropped Cartman and whirled around on Clover. "Piss off, Clover," he spat at her. "The fat fuck had it coming."

"Maybe he did, but you don't have to kill him," she said.

"I'll send his fuckin' ass to hell where he belongs," he ground out through gritted teeth. "Don't fuckin' lie about my woman, you asshole." He flung Cartman down on the ground, the brunette's face bloody and bruised. He looked at Dahlia, who was still on stage.

"Kenny," she said softly, biting her lip.

"Is it true?"

"Oh, God, no," she said, shaking her head wildly.

"So I'm the only one?" She didn't say anything. He walked up to her, grabbing her wrists in his hands, and she turned her face away. "I'm _not_ the only one?" His voice was dangerously quiet, but the silence in the club was deafening, the townspeople caught in the drama between the two lovers. You could hear a pin drop. He grabbed her upper arms, yanking her to him and looking in her eyes. "Y-you…"

"I'm sorry," she said, her voice raw with emotion.

"Who was it?" he asked weakly. When she didn't answer, he shook her a little. "Goddammit, who was it, Dahlia?!"

"Kyle," she said, and her voice was barely audible. "I'm so sorry...I was going to tell you…"

"But _why?_ As hard as I was trying to get you back and you…" he let the sentence trail, letting go of her arms, backing away a step with his hands up. "He's one of my best friends."

"I was drunk, Kenny," she said. She ran her fingers through her hair. "I don't know what I was thinking…"

The line stung, but I understood-she _hadn't_ been thinking clearly, although she had claimed she'd known what she was doing, and I should have stopped her. I waited for Kenny to come and kick _my_ ass, but he just stood there in front of her, trying to digest the information. It was a long while before anyone spoke. "I guess this is it, then?"

"I…"she trailed off. "Kenny, I love you _._ "

"Kinda hard to believe _that_ when you're fuckin' my friends," he said coldly.

"Oh, you're one to talk about love," Clover said sarcastically, rolling her eyes. "How's it feel to get a taste of your own medicine?"

"She was doin' it to get back at me," he said, his blue eyes snapping to her. "Who fuckin' _does_ that?"

"So lying to her is okay?"

"I fucking _apologized_ ," he snarled at her. His expression was almost feral, and if I had to admit, a little scary. Clover didn't back down. "I tried tellin' her how fuckin' sorry I was but she didn't want anything to do with me. I tried to fuckin' make it up to her. I didn't know that she was bangin' my friend." He held up his hands and backed away from her. "Lesson fuckin' learned."

"I had been drinking," Dahlia said, a hard glint in her eyes. "I shouldn't have, I know, but you know what? At least I had the balls to tell you." She pushed past him and out the door, leaving the crowd to wonder-loudly-if there was going to be a show tonight. Clover told them there wasn't, and it'd be rescheduled, just keep an eye on the door.

Kenny glared at Clover for a long while before sighing heavily, sitting down on the stage and raking his hands through his hair. "I fucking love her," he said, and it seemed like disbelief. Like he hadn't known already. I walked up to him, bracing myself for the punch that I knew was coming.

"Sorry, Kenny," I said.

He shrugged. "Whatever."

"Kenny," Clover said, this time her voice gentle. She sat beside him.

"I don't know what the fuck to do to get her to forgive me," he said. "I've tried every-damn-thing and I don't know what the hell I'm doin' wrong. She's leavin' at the end of the week, and if I don't win her back by then she's gone forever." He looked at me, no trace of anger. "What did you do?"

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"To get her back. What did you do? I gotta have your fuckin' secret, man, I'm dying here." He raked a hand back through his hair and shrugged again. "I'm not even gonna punch you, dude, I just need her back."

I didn't have an answer for him. There was nothing special I'd done, just talked to her. I shook my head. "I don't know. I talked to her. Apologized countless times, and she finally warmed back up to me." I looked at him. "Dude, you're so close. You maybe can't see it, but I do, and she's hurting just as bad as you are."

His head snapped up. "I know what I have to do. Can one of you guys get her to come to the roof of the mall? I need to meet her there."

"Can't you just do it at my house?"

"She won't come if she knows it's me. You won't understand, but I have a reason that I'm doing what I have in mind." His eyes met mine. "You have to help me, Kyle. This is the first girl I've felt this way about. I've never been more fucking serious about a woman than I am right now."

"O-okay, dude," I said. "I'll help you."

"If you dress as Mysterion again, I'll fucking kill you," Clover said, and I knew she was serious.

He shook his head. "I'm gonna go as me. I have to talk to her."

"Good luck, dude," I said, patting him on the shoulder.

* * *

See you next time! Thanks for reading! :)


	7. Chapter 7

There are a few POV switches in here. Sorry about those! I try not to switch too much as to not confuse someone (In my OLD stuff I'd switch points of view every few sentences or so. It was awful). Anyway, story time is over! On to Chapter Seven! Enjoy 3!

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CHAPTER SEVEN

Dahlia's POV

"Oh... _You're_ here."

"Yeah," he said. "I needed to see you again."

"I thought you were angry at me. For Kyle," I said, and I looked at the ground. "I feel bad about that, I honestly do-I never meant to go that far. I'm really sorry, Kenny, please don't hate him...He was only doing what my drunk ass told him to do."

"I don't," he said. "We aren't together anymore, me 'n you. I keep forgetting that." He looked at me with a small trace of a grin. "You can do whatever you want to with that fantastic body of yours and I can't do shit about it."

My heart thumped painfully and I sat down on the edge of the roof. He'd had Clover call me to the top of the roof, "to practice" she'd said, but I could see now that this was a trick just so he could talk to me (and, I'm not stupid enough to believe it wasn't suspicious...but it was Clover). I didn't blame him this time-I didn't really want to see him (you fucking _liar_ , yes you did) after what occurred at the club that night. "Don't do that to me," I said.

He sat down next to me. "Look, I'm not pissed about it," he said. "I miss you, baby. I can't think of anything _but_ you. I need you."

I looked at him. "Kenny, I have to leave soon."

"I know," he said. "Is that why you've been avoiding me?"

"Partly," I admitted. "I wanted you to get tired of chasing me. I was angry, really, _really_ angry at first, but then I looked at the calendar and realized I'm leaving this weekend and wanted you to forget me." I drew my knees to my chest. "I realized that I love you, but I didn't want you to hurt like I'm hurting. So I decided it would be best to piss you off. I didn't know you'd chase me like this-you never have with any of your other women."

"Because, Dahlia, you're different from the other women. I didn't love them. They were only there for one thing, and once I got it I ditched them. But you…" He slipped an arm around me, burying his face into my shoulder. "You're like a drug."

"Kenny, please," I said. " You can't. I don't want to make this any harder than it has to be."

"We got long distance, don't we, baby?" He said it _again. Baby_. The way he said it made my chest hurt, my stomach tied in knots because I knew we didn't have the long distance. It wouldn't _work_. I had school, and if I spent all my time dreaming about him, it would do me no good and that scholarship I earned and was so excited about would be wasted. It would be better if we didn't.

"I...I can't," I said, on the verge of tears now. "I have a career to think of, I'm already enrolled in a good school...I can't afford to fail."

"Dahlia," he said, leaning back and tilting my head to look at him. "Do you know what it feels like to die?"

I gave him a curious look as he stood up and took a cigarette out of his pocket. He'd been smoking a lot lately. "No...but the way I feel right now, I think I may be dying a little bit." I was being honest with him, which probably was not one of my better ideas, but I figured I may as well do it now instead of never getting to do it.

"Well…" he started, taking a long drag on the cigarette. "Dying fucking _hurts_." I watched his face, seeing things flicker that I'd never seen before. I figured he was trying to figure out how to word things. "I've died. A lot. Any way you can imagine."

"What do you mean? You can't be _dead_ , you're right in front of me," I said.

"I've been dead before," he insisted. "It's a curse. No matter what I do, I don't _stay_ dead. And nobody _remembers_." He looked at me and gave me a faint grin. "I could die in front of you right now, come back and you wouldn't have any clue that I was even gone in the first place."

He wasn't lying, I knew that much, but I still didn't completely understand. "But...how?"

"I told you-I'm cursed. I don't tell many people because they think I'm fuckin' nuts-and be honest, from the look on your face I can tell you think so too-but I wanted to tell _you_. If it comes down to it, I'll show you. Not that you'll remember anything, but...after what went down that night, I don't want any more secrets," he said.

It took me a long time to speak. "I don't want you to die, Kenny."

"I never know when it's gonna happen," he said. "As a kid I got electrocuted, stabbed, squashed by fuckin' trees, eaten by a goddamn _bird_ , and when I tried to show the guys-when I _first_ started playing Mysterion-I shot myself in the head and they didn't say a fuckin' word when I came back. But I always come back." He looked like he was in pain when he looked at me. "Even though you won't remember, I fuckin' _want_ you to. I want to know that someone cares when I die, and remembers, _every_ time I die. It may be selfish, but dammit, I know I'm fuckin' selfish."

I looked down at my knees. "I don't think you're selfish," I said. "If you've died as many times as you say you have, I would be upset that no one remembered me, too."

"Can I test it?"

My head snapped up and I shook my head. "No," I said. "Please, please, don't do it...What if you don't come back?"

He snorted a laugh and put his cigarette between his lips. "Don't worry about me, sweetheart. I'll be back. I just hope I'm back in enough time to talk you out of going home."

"Don't jump."

"Don't forget me," he said, standing on the edge of the roof. "I love you."

"Kenny, no," I said scrambling up as he leaned back. I reached out to him, my fingers barely brushing his as he stretched out his arm. He was smiling at me, telling me it would be okay...but I didn't believe him. I wouldn't believe him until I saw him back with my own eyes. " _Kenny!_ " I sat back down after seeing him hit the ground, shaking from head to toe. So much blood...I looked at my hands. _Almost_ … I almost could have saved him, but I was too damn slow. It took a full minute for the tears to come and I wrapped my arms around my knees after pulling them to my chest and cried harder than I'd ever cried in my life. He was _gone_. And it was all my fault.

I walked around like a zombie for the rest of the afternoon, not being able to get out of my funk long enough to talk to Kyle. He felt my forehead, and I feigned tiredness and went to my room before bursting into tears again. It was late afternoon by this point, the sun nearly all the way down, but I went ahead and laid down, curling up in a little ball, blankets pulled up under my chin. I cried myself to sleep that night.

* * *

((Clover's POV))

"You did well tonight," he said, and all I could do is look at him. My heart started beating a little faster, my breath caught, and I couldn't think of anything to say to him. "I...I heard that your songs were good, so I came."

"Thanks," I said to him finally, when I felt safe to speak, packing up my guitar and hopping offstage. "But you shouldn't have."

"Clover," he said.

I turned to meet his eyes, one hidden underneath unruly curly black hair, the usual cigarette hanging between his lips. He had an unusual look on his face, one that wasn't the normal nonchalant, aloof one he always tried to keep. It was a look that he'd used to give me on the nights I'd be invited into his bed, if only just for the sex, and then we'd go back to what we were doing. After all, nine times out of ten, sex was permitted. "I'm not getting back together with you." He didn't say anything, but I knew I'd hit the nail on the head with that one. "Michael...I can't go back. Not after how far I've come."

"You'd rather spend time with those posers than with us?" Ah. So he _was_ jealous. Even though the attitude was back, like he didn't care about a damn thing, he was jealous. It gave me a little sense of satisfaction to see that he even _could_ feel jealousy.

"Yeah," Stan said, stepping up behind me. "She would. At least _we_ have a little fun every now and then."

"Shut the fuck up, no one was talking to you," he snapped.

"Just leave," I said. "Michael, please. Just go. That would be the best thing for all of us."

He sneered at me before turning around, trenchcoat flying out behind him. "When this asshole dumps you, don't expect to come back."

"I don't plan to," I called after him. "Being alone is better than being with _you_."

"Was he bothering you too much?" Stan asked gently.

I shook my head. "No, he was alright. I was gonna handle it. But thanks...you made it easier."

"Glad to hear it," Stan said with a smile, taking my guitar from me. "Hey, instead of me walking you home, wanna come to my house? I mean, you'll have to hear the third degree from my dad cause he's fucking nosy, but if you want to hang out, you can."

I thought for a moment and then smiled at him. "Sure. I've never been there before, so it'll be fun to hang out. And...I guess it's as good a time as any to meet your parents."

* * *

Stan's dad, oh my _God._ I had no words. He was hilarious, but I had to wonder what the hell he'd been smoking. Stan pinched the bridge of his nose more than once in irritation, and I had to cough to keep from laughing. After about 15 minutes of talking, Stan excused us to go to his room and I followed him, giggling to myself. "Stan, your dad…"

He grimaced. "I am so fucking sorry," he said. "My dad's a loudmouth."

"He's great, though," I said with a grin. "He seemed really interested in my piercings. And his face when I told him about my clover being an actual tattoo?" I snickered, thinking of the way he'd poked the clover tattooed under my right eye. It was like he'd never seen one before, until he looked at me and asked me how the hell I sat still getting it tattooed.

"You only say that because you just met him. He's a pain in the ass," Stan said, rolling his eyes. "Ask Kyle. Dad got into more trouble than we did when we were kids."

I laughed. "Honestly, from the way he was right then, I believe you."

We both got a little quiet, and I toyed with the hem of my tattered tank top and smoothed it before he reached over and touched the top of my hand. "Hey."

I looked at him, noticing the concerned look in his eye. "Yeah?"

"You miss him, don't you?" He asked me.

The question took me off guard, and I looked down at our hands. "I…" I didn't know how to reply. The correct answer, if I had to be honest, was _yes_ , I supposed. But I didn't, at the same time. It was a hard question to answer, and I shrugged. "I guess. Maybe a little. But I guess that's what happens after wasting 4 years of my life on someone."

"Tell me about it," Stan said with a little scoff. I assumed he meant Wendy, and knew that they had been on and off since they were children.

"You miss her too," I said, and he nodded. "I'm sorry."

"Why be sorry? I'm better with you. Happier," he said. "You're worth a million of her."

My heart jumped at that statement, and I looked down in embarrassment, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear. "You can't tell me that," I said. "Makes me feel like we're getting serious already."

He tilted my head up and smiled at me. "And if we are…?"

I felt myself blushing. "I...I don't want to end up the same way as Michael and I."

"We aren't," Stan assured me. "Do you want to know why?"

"...Because you're nothing like Michael," I said, catching on and smiling at him. I laughed a little bit. "You're right. You aren't." I bit my lip. "Stan, I've liked you for a long time. I'm really scared something's going to happen."

He shrugged. "I don't see anything happening. You're not Wendy, I'm not Michael, and...I think we'll make it." He grinned again. "I just have a good feeling."

"You're definitely not Michael," I said with a soft laugh, hooking my fingers around his chin. "You're such a fucking _sap_."

"You love it," he said, kissing me then.

I kissed him back, not anything different from the norm, except _this_ time, he got a little grabby. I didn't mind the way his hand went up my shirt, or the way he tugged it up. I didn't mind his fingers unlatching my bra. His hands were gentle, much more gentle than Michael had ever been, and I never knew how good sex could feel when going slowly. Or...at least the foreplay to sex, since we weren't exactly doing it yet.

He focused on my mouth for a long time before kissing a line down to my shoulder, downward on to my chest, and that's when I began to get a little nervous. I pushed past it, because it really did feel pretty awesome, and since I didn't want to fuck this up with Stan. He noticed me tense up, because he pulled back and looked at me in concern. "Is everything alright?"

I smiled at him and nodded. "I just haven't been touched this way in a long time," I told him. It wasn't exactly a lie, but I wasn't being honest with him, either.

He kissed me again, hand going to my belt buckle, and I pushed him back with a command to take his shirt off. Pants could stay for now, but if I had to go topless, so did he. He laughed and with a, "yes ma'am", flung his shirt across the room, taking his hat with it. I threaded my fingers in his hair, kissing him again, and his hand resumed its task in unbuckling my belt. I let my hand drift to his belt, and heard his low growl. So he liked this, did he? I took my time in unbuttoning his jeans, and when I did, he sighed in relief. I snickered to myself, but was quickly silenced by his eager hands pulling at my jeans to get them down. Pretty soon both of us were stripped to our underwear, hands and mouths everywhere. I started to get really nervous when his hand slipped into my panties, and told myself I could get through that-Stan was really gentle, and there was nothing he would do that would hurt me. After all, I wanted this too, didn't I?

My heart beat loudly, more rapidly, and I could feel a panic attack coming on. Oh God, what if I did something wrong? What if i disappointed him? He's so much sweeter than Michael, I don't know what I would do if he left me over _this_ -

The next thing I knew, I was in tears, pushing him away and scrambling to get my clothes. He looked a little hurt, and I knew I wasn't being fair by dressing already and not explaining the problem, but I just _couldn't_. I saw him pick his phone up in a panic and dial a number before taking the phone and hanging up as quick as I could, tossing it on the bed. With a hushed, "I'm sorry," and a kiss, I left the house. I realized I'd gone to Kyle's instead of my house when I knocked on the door and asked for Dahlia. Kyle's mom told me that she was in her room and gave me permission to go to her, seeing how upset I was. I thanked her and rushed to her room, knocking on the door. I walked in after getting a greeting to see her sitting on the floor, flipping through the contacts on her phone. Her thumb lingered over Kenny's name, I noticed(that's _right_ , he _hadn't_ been at the gig tonight), sitting down with her. She looked up at me, and I could see that her eyes were puffy and red, but she spoke first.

"Clover, what happened?"

"I…" I bit my lip before the floodgates opened. I told her everything, starting with how I felt about Michael and what happened in the past 4 years. I told her about how tender Stan's touch was, how I was afraid of disappointing him, how I'd never let my guard down like that around anyone _but_ Stan, and how I'd never felt so beautiful, so wanted, so _loved_ by a man in my life. "I fucked it all up, Dahlia. I left him with nothing. No explanation, nothing but an 'I'm sorry', and now I'm afraid he won't want me anymore."

She shook her head. "Stan's a better person than that. Look how long he put up with Wendy's bullshit. I think he'll be more worried about you than anything." She gave me a reassuring smile, even though I knew by the tearstains on her cheeks that something had happened before I got here and she was upset. Probably something having to do with Kenny-I'd murder the bastard. She patted the top of my head. "Why don't you call him, Clover? I know that it would make him feel better if you did."

"I'm 99% sure he will never want to talk to me again," I said miserably.

"Actually, Clover...she's right," Stan said from the doorway. He smiled at me, walking into Dahlia's room and standing in front of me. He took my hands in his and squeezed them. "I'm not angry...what happened to you? I know that I'm not _that_ bad a lover." His voice was teasing me and I bit my lip.

"No, Stan, you're fucking perfect," I said to him. "You're so much better than Michael at everything, and you scare me a little bit. I lose it a little bit when I'm with you, and I haven't done that in so long that it terrifies me."

"I'll help you with that," he said sincerely. "If we have to, we'll hold off on the intimate stuff. I don't mind waiting forever on you."

"You fucking sap," I said with a choked laugh, the tears coming back. I hugged him. "You're wonderful."

"Come on, guys," Dahlia said, trying to be light about it but there was a tone to her voice that said seeing us together was very painful for her. "Get a room. And not my room."

Stan chuckled, ruffling her hair like a big brother would. "Ah, sorry."

"Are you okay, Dahlia?" I asked softly.

"I'll be fine." She faked a smile and I saw right through it. "Go enjoy your boyfriend. I'll call you tomorrow and let you know what's up."

"If you insist," I said, giving her a quick hug. It was unlike me, but I figured since I'd bared my soul to the girl, I could at least hug her. "Get some sleep."

She nodded as I walked out the door. She called Stan back in the room with her, and I leaned outside the doorway to give them privacy. She probably wanted to talk about whatever it was that Kenny did with _him_ , so I wouldn't get so angry. "Hey, have you heard from Kenny today?" she asked. Her voice was hushed, but I still heard everything that was said.

"No, he hasn't called. I just figured he was takin' a lazy day. Why, he hasn't called you?"

"No," she said. "I'm worried about him, Stan. We met on the roof the other day, and something happened but what kills me is that I don't remember what it was. I'm worried that he may be dead or something."

"He's fine," Stan assured her. "I'll call him when I get home and let you know."

"Thank you," she said softly. "I've tried more than once to get in touch with him but there's no response." I heard shuffling and looked to see her pushing him out the door. "So now go have sex with your girlfriend."

He blushed crimson and stuttered as she giggled, closing the door behind him. I looked at him in concern, but his face told me that she didn't want to discuss it, and he'd let her call me and explain. I saw him slide something in his pocket, also, but I didn't ask what it was. We walked home, after an apology to Mrs. Broflovski. She laughed it off, thankfully, with no questions asked.

* * *

After a wildly successful night with Stan, I woke up still in his bed, still in his arms, and also still very naked. I tried to roll over, so I could get up and put my clothes on, but he held me tight and nuzzled my shoulder. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Stan, if your parents catch us…"

"They won't," he said, rolling me over to face him. He smiled at me, and I couldn't help but laugh at his severe bedhead. It was cute, but looked ridiculous on him. "Could I at least have a good morning kiss before you get out of bed?"

I rolled my eyes, but smiled. Just as his lips were about to touch mine, we heard his dad from downstairs, moaning Stan's name like he was dying. Stan grunted and rolled away, sighing. "What?!"

"Staaaaan, just come in here, Staaaaaaaaaaaan," Randy groaned.

Stan got up, grumbling to himself. I could have sworn I heard the words, "there goes my morning", and laughed to myself. About the time I checked my phone to see how late in the afternoon we'd slept (since we pretty much fucked each other _all night long_ ), it began ringing. Dahlia. "Hey."

"Clover, has Stan heard from Kenny?"

"We just got up," I said, frowning at the urgency in her voice. "I don't think he has."

"Okay," she said. "Sorry to bother you."

"Dahlia, can you tell me what he's done this time?" I asked her. "You're worrying me, and I don't worry."

"I'm afraid he's dead. I haven't heard from him, and I keep calling and texting, and messaging him online, and _nothing_. I'm really, really scared. He told me something that day on the roof, and I don't remember what it was or what happened and it _scares_ me," she said. She was rambling, but I didn't blame her. My heart started to pound. As much as I bitched at him, I didn't want him to be _dead_ -I really did love him. Not like Dahlia, of course, but I worried about him.

"I'm sorry," I said to her. I didn't know what else to say. "You haven't been to his house, have you?"

"No," she said. "Why isn't anyone else concerned about him, Clover?"

"I don't know," I said softly. "Calm down...I'm sure he's fine."

"Take me to his house," she said desperately. "Please, just so I know he's okay."

"I will," I promised her.

By this time Stan was back from whatever it was that his dad wanted, and walked back in the bedroom. He stopped smiling when he saw my face and looked at my phone. "It was Dahlia, wasn't it?"

"She's about to panic," I said. "She's really worried about Kenny. This isn't like her." I shook my head. "I promised to take her to Kenny's but I need you to go with me-his mom doesn't know me."

He nodded. "Come on, let's go get her."

* * *

((Dahlia's POV))

When we arrived at Kenny's, his little sister informed us that he was sleeping in his room. She looked at me, and with a sweet smile that I knew was genuine, told me that she'd allow only me in there-he was indecent as always, but since she was sure I'd seen it all, she'd let me go. I blushed scarlet, and with a rushed thank you, followed her directions to his room. I didn't bother knocking-I had to see him whether or not he wanted to see me. He was laying in bed uncovered, an arm thrown over his face and another on his chest, and I didn't dare look any lower-she wasn't lying about indecency. He stirred a little when I moved his arm from his face, but sighed and stilled. I brushed a few kisses over his face, kneeling in front of his bed on the floor, before settling on his lips and I swear to God I'd never seen him move so fast. "...Dahlia?" he asked, almost inaudibly.

"You're here," I said, looking at him with tear filled eyes. I couldn't hold back the sobs as I sat back on the floor, rubbing my eyes like a child. "You're okay...you're okay." I couldn't stop saying the words, relief flooding through my whole body. He knelt down in front of me, either forgetting he was naked or not caring, and took me in his arms, holding me close. I sobbed on his chest, balling my fist and hitting him a few times. "You bastard, how could you do that to me? You didn't call me back, or text, or answer my calls, and I knew something happened to you but you wouldn't _talk_ to me and it _hurts_ , Kenny. At least when I was ignoring you, you knew I was safe, but you-I worried so much after I saw you fall." The last words slipped from my mouth before I realized it, and he stiffened. I'm sure I tensed up as much as he did, and he pulled back to look at me.

"What did you just say?"

"You fell," I said slowly, looking in his eyes. "I remember now. You fell from the roof." I touched his face, running my hands all over his top half, in his hair, searching for any injury. "You should be dead, Kenny."

"You remember," he said in relief, grabbing me again and holding me so tightly I feared I'd break. "You remember." He buried his face in my neck and his shoulders began shaking. A moment later, I felt his tears on my neck and hugged him to me. I didn't know what to say, so didn't say anything. I didn't know what to do, either-Kenny wasn't the type of man to cry, especially in front of a woman. I was slowly starting to remember that day on the roof, but the conversation was still fuzzy to me. I didn't have to think for long-Kenny kissed me then, showing me his relief. He pulled back after a moment or two, and looked at me with a smile on his face. "You fuckin' _remember_."

"You died, didn't you?" I asked him. "When you hit the ground. You were dead."

"Yeah," he said.

"I didn't remember yesterday," I said. "Or this morning. I just remembered something bad happening to you, and then I couldn't get ahold of you. It scared me so bad...I had just wanted you to forget me, not to die." I bit my lip, trying to give him a shaky smile. "I love you, you idiot."

"No one else knows," he said. "No one else remembers when I die-but you did." He said again. "It worked."

"Don't ever do that shit to me again," I told him.

He grabbed my hands. "Don't go home. Stay with me. Forever."

"I have to go," I said. "But while I'm still here…I can stay with you, if you want."

"Oh, God, yes," he said.

I smiled at him, pecking a kiss on his forehead as I stood up. "Get dressed, and you can help me get my stuff from Kyle's house."

He seemed to realize then that he was naked, and began to laugh. "You sure you don't wanna do somethin' else first?"

"Clover and Stan are here, so no."

"Damn," he said. He grabbed his clothes quickly and dressed, taking no time in grabbing my hand. He pushed me back against the closed door first, kissing my breath away. After he pulled back so we could leave the room, I was a little dazed, making him laugh. "You sure you don't wanna stay here?"

"Oh, shut up and move so I can get out of here," I said good naturedly.

He laughed, obeying. Clover punched him when we got to his living room, making Stan laugh. "That's for worrying her so much, asshole!"

"Sorry, sorry," he said with a laugh. "We worked it out. Everything's okay now."

"I'd venture to say we were back together, if you'll have me," I said looking at him, a blush on my face.

"You know I will," he said, accompanied by a lecherous grin that told everyone that he was back to his normal self. He hugged me again after that, whispering how much he loved me in my ear and my knees went weak. I didn't think I'd ever get used to that…

* * *

This was it. This was my last gig, my last day here, my last day to spend time with all my friends before I left for Georgia, and Clover and I had a little secret up our sleeve. We weren't going to perform the type of music we normally did-we were going to dress up for our men tonight, and be _classy._ I had a floor length indigo dress with a slit up to my hip, the front with a little diamond to show off a little cleavage, and I looked fucking _sexy_. I bunched my wavy hair in a clip on top of my head, save for a few tendrils falling around my shoulders. My bangs were too short to put up so I left those alone, just swept across my forehead. I wore virtually no makeup-just red lipstick and I'd lined my eyes, but that was it. I had a thin silver necklace on, with the Celtic knot attached, and wore my typical rings. A couple silver bangles were around my wrists, and on my feet were borrowed heels from Clover. I cursed them-I was a tennis shoe wearing kinda girl, not _these_. They were black, not unlike the rest of Clover's belongings, about 4 inches tall, and stilettos. I'd spent many an hour in Clover's room learning to walk without killing myself-I wasn't exactly a pro now, but at least I walked without tripping all over myself.

Clover's outfit wasn't too much different than mine-the main difference being the color. When we'd discussed the possibility of this kind of thing, we'd really liked the idea of matching dresses, but different colors to match personalities. Her hair was in a bun, a couple strands curled and left to hang around her face, and she'd put a small decorative comb in to hold it in place. I thought she was beautiful in her long red dress, and told her so. She'd smiled at me, told me how uncomfortable she was, and left me to finish primping in front of the mirror before it was time to go to the club.

We had our usual attendees along with a few new faces, I noticed when I walked inside the club that night. I heard a few whispers when we walked in, and could feel the excitement from them-they wanted to know what we were going to do this time since we were dressed so drastically different from normal. Hell, we even had requested different microphones-I had always liked the old-timey microphones and the owner liked our performances (and the money they brought him) so well, he bought them for us. I was thrilled, so in our practices I liked to hang all over it. I imagined Kenny being there, and I planned to tease him tonight. He couldn't get handsy in public-or at least I didn't like him to-and so I took advantage of it.

Big band music, jazzy slow songs, had always been a favorite of mine, and I was stoked that I was able to talk Clover into singing them. We, unfortunately, didn't have a live band, but there was no way an huge band could fit into that club with all the townspeople packed in there, so I was happy with just a CD. There were 3 or 4 songs we were going to sing, and one in backup in case something went wrong or they wanted an encore. After all, tonight was the end of Clover and Dahlia (since we hadn't come up with a little more creative name for our duo), since I didn't know when I'd be back.

I was giddy by the time the show actually started, and had to contain myself when we walked onstage so I didn't trip and fall. I calmed when I saw the audience, telling myself that I needed to act like I had it together, even if I really didn't. "I'm going to kick this off by saying thank you so much for coming back after all that drama that we've had the whole time I've been singing, and thank you so much for your kindness. The tips went to new microphones, and these awesome new dresses that we bought just for all of you!" I gestured to the audience, gaining a round of applause. "I am sad to say, though, that today's my last day here. So all of you who came just for me, here's a kiss to all your faces because I love you." I blew them a kiss with a smile. "And now I'll shut up because you came here for a show-not a monologue."

They laughed as the music began, then all you could hear was shushing so they didn't miss anything. I smiled as I began to sing, holding onto the sides of the mic and swaying my hips to the beat. Every now and then I'd send a wink someone's way, maybe bite my lip a little bit and the guys would whistle at me. I looked over at Clover, noticing she was letting go a little more than usual, smiling herself, and doing the same things I was doing. She looked like she was enjoying herself immensely, and I could relate. I was having a great time- it was mind-blowing how much power a beautiful woman held over a man. I saw Stan in the audience, mouth open slightly, _captivated_ by her. I was afraid to look at Kenny-knowing him, he'd run and grab me right off the stage if he could.

The show ended quickly, seeming much faster than our other shows, and Clover and I hugged as the club roared with applause and whistles. I gave her a huge kiss on the cheek, leaving a lipstick print and she shoved me slightly, laughing. If this was the way our goodbye was going to be, I was happy with it.

"E-excuse me," said a timid voice, grabbing my attention. I looked to see a boy, no older than 15 or 16 if I had to guess, with a bouquet of roses for me. He held them out, blushing. "For you. You were great. We're going to miss you."

"You're so sweet, thank you," I said, smiling as I reached out to take the flowers. They were smacked to the floor by none other than my wonderful boyfriend, a weird look on his face.

"Yeah, yeah," he said. "Fuck off, kid. That's my girlfriend." He then bent down and pulled me over his shoulder, holding me like he would a sack of potatoes.

My mouth dropped open and I hit him on the back with my fists. "Put me down, you big dummy! He was just being nice!"

He smacked my backside with an order to hush. "You're going home with me right now."

I knew what he had in mind and elbowed him. "Put me down," I repeated. "I need to go see Clover."

"Clover can wait. I've got you now, and I don't plan on letting go," he said. He yelled a quick goodbye to my partner, who was busy trying to fend off a man that looked like Stan-his father, most likely. She tossed a quick wave our way, and Kenny carried me out the door. I heard one old man mention something to his friend about us, and laughed to myself. They had to think we were crazy. There was no other word for our relationship _but_ crazy, and I found myself thinking that I really didn't want it any other way.

When we made it back to Kenny's, he power-walked through the house, ignoring what was said to him, and flopped me down rather ungracefully on the bed. He looked at me then, and I could see the hungry look in his eyes-the one he always had in his eye around me, and I felt my body heating up from my head to my toes. He kissed me heatedly, without a word, laying down beside me. He stroked my face. "What do I do with you on your last night here…"

I rolled my eyes. "I know what you want to do."

"You have no fuckin' clue, baby," he said with a grin.

I rolled my eyes again, sitting up to take the clip out of my hair-it was starting to dig into my head. The red locks fell about my shoulders and I shook my head, breathing a sigh of relief. "Much better. That damn clip hurts."

"You make it hard to want to take my time," he said with a groan.

I laughed. "Sorry, sweetheart." About that time, my phone went off, and I saw that it was my mom. "I gotta take this, okay? You have to be quiet-my mom doesn't know that I'm staying with you." He nodded and I answered the phone. "Heya, mom!"

"Hey, Dahlia. Are you ready to come home yet? I miss you," she said.

"I'll be home tomorrow," I said with a laugh, watching the mischievous look on my boyfriend's face. He touched my foot, unbuckling the heel slowly, and it dawned on me what he was going to do. I shook my head, narrowing my eyes at him. " _No,"_ I mouthed to him.

He ignored me as my mom continued to speak. "Well, David's been asking and asking about you. He really misses his big sister."

"Aw," I said with a smile, imagining my four year old brother tugging on my mom's shirt and asking where I was. "He's cute. Tell him that Sissy will be home to tuck him in tomorrow." Kenny was unbuckling my other shoe now. He had a hand on the back of my calf, and kissed my ankle. A shiver went up my spine and I fought the urge to kick my foot at him.

"We also have some other news we want to tell you," she said.

"Ma, I'm too old to be a sister again," I said. He was sliding his hands up my leg, mouth following. He was making it very hard to stay focused, and he wasn't even hardly _doing_ anything yet.

She laughed. "No, no," she said. "I'm too old to start over again-David's enough of a handful anyway." Sliding the dress over to expose my entire leg, he kissed up over my knee and pushed them apart. His hands travelled farther up yet, one stopping on my hip, the other hovering between my legs. His blue eyes met mine and I saw the wicked look as I shook my head violently. Please, no, not _that,_ not while I was on the phone with my _mom_ , what the hell is-

His tongue was on my thigh. I gave my mom a shaky laugh. "That's a good thing…"

"We'll tell you when we pick you up," my mom was saying. I gave her a breathy, "okay", and she kept talking. My mom didn't know how to shut up, but in all fairness, she also didn't know that I had a man touching me, his fingers teasing the thin fabric of my underwear as he nipped and sucked at my thigh. "You make sure to call me when you get to the airport, okay?"

I let out an involuntary gasp when two of his fingers entered me, quickly turning it into a yawn and faking exhaustion. "I will, Mom," I said. "I'm really tired...I had a long day today and will have a long day tomorrow, so I'll just call you before the plane takes off, okay?"

"Okay, honey," She said, and after we said our "I love you"'s and our goodbyes, we hung up and I didn't know whether to choke Kenny or kiss him. I buried my fingers in his hair, yanking him up from his position on the floor. He removed his hand from between my legs and climbed on top of me, shoving a knee between mine, kissing me so hard I was nearly pinned to the bed. I didn't mind, tightening my grip on his hair.

He laughed against my lips. "Was that good, babe?"

"Shut the fuck up, you asshole," I responded, but kissed him. "It wasn't fair of you to do that to me...what if I sucked your cock while _you_ were on the phone?"

"I'd think I was damn lucky," he said to me.

I shook my head and laughed. "Of course you would."

He merely laughed before kissing me again, making sure I wouldn't remember how to speak when he was done. I allowed him to do as he wished-it would be the last time in a long time, and I planned to have _fun_ tonight with the man I loved.

* * *

It's mushy, haha. I hope you liked it! Stay tuned, Chapter 8 will be up soon! Thank you for reading!


	8. Chapter 8

Hey guys! Thanks for the follows! They're greatly appreciated, and I'm super glad you like this story!

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CHAPTER EIGHT

Stan's POV

Dad was doing this on purpose. He'd begged to come to the show tonight, after finding out where I spent every single Saturday night, and the occasional Wednesday, depending on how big the demand for the girls was. My dad was a nosy bastard, and liked to be in the middle of everybody's business, especially mine. Whatever the latest trend was, he had to be a part of it. It annoyed the shit out of me. Tonight was no exception, finally pestering me enough to come that I allowed it just to get him to shut up. Even being almost 50 years old, he acted like a kid-talking 100 miles a minute and would not _shut the fuck up_.

He'd behaved himself during the performance (and I had to admit, I was a little embarrassed to see them dressed the way they were-it was to tease men like me, and it was doing a hell of a job. It would have been okay, but my dad liked to ask inappropriate questions and would have teased the hell out of me had he known I popped a boner during their performance). Afterwards, he bombarded her with questions, asking how long she'd been doing this, telling her how great she was, stuff like that, and all I wanted to do was get her alone with me. I tended to be a little bit more level-headed than Kenny-who'd flopped Dahlia over his shoulder and was going to do God knows what to her when he got her home-but I was still a man, and she was looking fucking _delicious_.

Dad offered for her to come to the house, to meet my mom and talk for a bit (he was still interested in her piercings, also), and she accepted, tossing a look at me. On the way home, she sat in the back by herself, but jumped into the conversation since Dad still wouldn't shut up. (in hindsight, I suppose it was a good thing he liked her).Once we got to the house, I made up an excuse to leave the room, dragging her with me. She'd claimed to need to get dressed (only clothes she'd be able to wear were mine, but I wasn't complaining).

I closed the door behind us, shoving her against it and kissing the breath out of her. She responded in kind, her fingers threading in my hair and pulling me as close as she could. I slipped a hand under one of her thighs, picking it up over my hip as I ground against her, swallowing up her little moans. She called my name and tapped my shoulder, pointing toward the bed and grinning. "You don't wanna fuck me against the door," she whispered. "Your parents..?"

I nodded, and no sooner had I gotten her on the bed, her dress pulled up around her waist, one of my knees between hers and the top nearly down, did my mother knock on the door- _and she fucking opened it._ I'd never, in my 19 years of life, seen my mother _that_ angry. Her face turned scarlet-nearly purple-and every vein that woman had popped out on her forehead. She uttered two words ("Get. Out."), and pointed. Clover usually liked to play with fire, but seeing how furious my mother was, she decided against it and walked out of the room, head held high.

Mom waited until Clover got out of the house before turning on me. "Stanley Randall Marsh, what the _hell_ were you doing?"

I glared at my mother. "I'm an adult."

"You live in _my_ house!" She shrieked at me. "Were you even going to use protection?!"

"Oh, my God," I muttered, pinching the bridge of my nose. " _Yes_ , Mother."

"Don't you take that tone with me, young man," She snapped. "I don't think you need to see that girl anymore."

My eyes met hers and I had never hated my mother more. "I'm 19 fucking years old, I can date whoever the fuck I want," I said slowly, glaring daggers at my mother.

"Don't you use that language in front of me, Stanley," she said.

"Don't tell me who I can and can't date," I growled.

"You can see whoever you want once you move out of this house. As long as you are under my roof, I will make any decision I see fit," she snapped.

"If that's the case, I'm finding a job tomorrow," I said. "I'm going to bed."

She left my room without a word and I flopped back on my bed. I grabbed my phone, texting Clover the bad news. Her response, though only text, dripped venom. I could relate to her anger, but assured her that my mom had no fucking clue and wasn't going to dictate my life any longer. I'd make sure of that.

* * *

"Heya, Stan," Butters said cheerily as I walked into the grocery store the next morning. Or, afternoon, since I ended up sleeping until noon like I normally did.

"Hey, Butters," I said. "I have a question for you-are you guys hiring? I need to find a job, and as soon as I can."

"Gee, what happened? Your parents threaten to kick ya out like mine did?"

I winced-he was able to talk about it so easily now, but I remembered his panic on his 18th birthday, before he started working to 'earn his keep', as his parents liked to say. They were fucking _assholes_ , and always had been. "Not exactly-you know my girlfriend Clover?"

"Oh, yeah, the Goth girl," he said thoughtfully.

"Yeah, my mom caught us together and I'm not 'allowed' to see her until I move out. So I'm trying to find a job so I can move out," I said. "Clover's not like Wendy-if my mom had caught Wendy and I together she would have given me a goddamn medal. But since Clover has piercings and tattoos and is the complete opposite of the naggy bitch, she automatically hates her."

He nodded. "I think we got a couple positions open doin' the stockin' like I do. You don't wanna be cashier-they fire cashiers all the time to save hours." He led me to the front, to an application kiosk and smiled. "Just apply there and I can try ta put in a good word for ya. They like me here."

I grinned at Butters, clapping him on the shoulder. "You're a great friend, Butters. I appreciate it."

"No problem-I know you'd do the same thing for me, Stan," he said, and I nodded. I would. Butters was naive, but he was a genuinely good person, and meant a lot to all of us. He seemed to be especially close to Kenny over the years, helping to mellow him out when he was so heavy into his drugs, alcohol and sex.

It took me about half an hour to fill out the application, and as soon as I stood to tell Butters I was finished, my phone started to ring. It was Kenny, asking if I was going to go with them to the airport to see Dahlia off. "Shit. Yeah, I'm coming," I said. "I lost track of time, dude, just give me 10 minutes to get to your house."

"Where are you? We'll pick you up," Kenny asked.

"At the store," I said. "Butters is here, if Dahlia wants to say bye."

I heard Kenny say something to her and her agreement, followed by his laugh. "Yeah, she said she wants to see him."

I grinned. "I'll tell him."

"So we'll see you guys in a few," he said before hanging up.

I caught up with Butters after a moment or two of searching. "Dahlia's leaving today, and she wanted to come say bye before she left," I said.

"Aw, hamburgers," he said, making me grin a little. "I wish I woulda had a little more time ta spend with her-I like her."

"Yeah, dude," I said. "Kenny tried to talk her into staying longer, but she said she's gotta go home. She said she's gotta go to school even though being with Clover actually pays."

"Well, darn," he said. "Hopefully she can come back soon."

"Yeah. But until she can, I guess we'll catch her online."

"B'awww, I'm gonna miss you," I heard Dahlia say as she grabbed Butters from behind and buried her face in his back. "I wish we could have hung out more."

Butters let out a little yelp, and then laughed a little when he realized who it was. "Yeah, me too. You're gonna have to come back soon!"

"Ooor you could bring your happy asses out there to see me next time," she said with a laugh. "It gets lonely all the way over there."

"I-I can try," he said, the tips of his ears getting red as she released him and he was finally able to turn around.

She smiled at him. "I'm really glad I got to meet you, Butters. You're a sweetie pie. My mom would love you."

"I'm glad ya think so," he said, blushing.

She stood on tiptoe to brush a kiss on his cheek. (Part of me thought that she enjoyed embarrassing him, and was only doing it to make him blush.) "I'll catch you online."

"Okay," he said, his face nearly crimson at this point. "I'll see ya around, Dahlia."

We all said our goodbyes to Butters, loading up in the car (it was the five of us-me, Dahlia, Kyle, Kenny and Cartman). The trip to Denver was entertaining, to say the least-trying to get in as much conversation as we could before dropping her off at the airport. We walked her in the lobby, which was as far as we could go.

"Thanks, guys. This summer was fucking amazing, and I had a great time with all of you. Even you, tubby," she said the last to Cartman, who made a face at her and looked at his phone, grumbling. "I hope to come back maybe next summer, or visit when I get breaks, if I can."

"There's still time to change your mind," Kenny said to her.

She shook her head. "I'd love to, babe, but I have to start school. I need to get a start in my career, you know."

"Fuck, you can have a career right here singing," he said. "You see the way those guys looked at you last night? You could do that every night and make a living."

She smiled at him, albeit shaky, and touched the side of his face. "Don't make this harder, Kenny, you know it hurts."

"Goddammit, stay with me. You don't need school, it's fucking overrated anyway," he said, and it was the closest I'd ever seen my friend to begging.

She shook her head without another word, looking at me. "I'm sorry again about Wendy, Stan."

"Don't worry about it," I said, shrugging with a grin. "If you hadn't come along and tore Wendy's nerves up, I wouldn't have been able to be with Clover. So it worked out for everybody."

She giggled. "I guess it did." She turned to Cartman. "Okay, I don't really have a lot to say to you, beyond the fact that I guess you did make the summer entertaining. I didn't want drama, but thanks to you I got it." She shrugged and smiled at him. "I guess I should say thank you, cause I learned stuff that I never knew about Kenny before."

He rubbed the back of his head, looking at the ground. "Yeah, yeah," he mumbled.

What she did next surprised us all-she pulled Kyle down by the collar, kissing him full on the mouth. When she pulled back, she was grinning at the blush on his face. "And _you_...I don't know what I would do without you. I love you, Kyle. I expect you to talk to me every day, still."

"Well, yeah," he said, his face turning pink. "You're one of us, dude."

"I'm glad," she said with a smile. "Tell your mom and dad thank you for me one more time-I really appreciate their hospitality."

"I will," he said.

She turned back to Kenny, wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her head on his chest. "I'll miss this most," she said. "I know I'll talk to you every day, but I'll miss touching you like this." She reached up and touched his face, running her fingers through his always-messy blond hair. "I love you."

"You talk about making it hard for you to go," he said to her, holding her tightly. "Do you know how bad it hurts watching you leave?"

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"You bitch," Clover said loudly, stomping over to us from the doorway. "You were just going to leave without even telling me goodbye, weren't you?!"

"Clover! No, I-"

The goth yanked Dahlia away from Kenny in a tight hug. "I'm gonna miss you, dammit. We don't have a band anymore."

"We can always perform when I come visit," Dahlia said, trying to be light.

"It's not the _same_ ," Clover said to her. It sounded like she was trying not to cry. "Fucking Tablecloth, you grew on me."

"Aw, Clover, don't make me cry," the ginger said to her friend.

"Serves you right for being a bitch," Clover retorted.

I heard the girls sniffling as they hugged, only to let go at the sound of the announcement that Dahlia's plane was going to be boarding soon, and the passengers of that flight needed to get through security. Dahlia said the rest of her goodbyes, complete with a hard kiss from Kenny that she was guaranteed not to forget anytime soon. We watched her walk away, and I'm sure everyone else felt the same way I did-we were missing one of the guys.

* * *

((Dahlia's POV))

My baby brother about tackled me when I walked into the lobby of the airport, after getting my luggage. He looked up at me, giving me a toothy smile and rubbing his forehead on my knees. "Leelee! You're back! I missed you."

"You did? Well, I missed you too, David," I said, rubbing his thick red hair.

I gave each of my parents a hug and smiled at them. My mom toyed with my long hair, looking at me kindly. "Are you glad to be home?"

"Of course I am," I said. "I missed you guys."

"But, really?"

"Well," I said slowly as we began walking to the car. "I wouldn't have minded staying in South Park a little longer." I smiled. "The guys are great, Ma, you'd love them. Except for Cartman, but nobody likes Cartman." I giggled a little bit.

"We need to send something to Kyle's family to thank them for letting you stay so long," Mom said thoughtfully. "It was nice of them to lend you a room for the month."

I nodded. "I thanked them, and offered to do stuff around the house for them, but Kyle wouldn't let me."

"I think you and he should date, Dahlia," Mom said. "You're always talking about him." She winked at me playfully. "And I want some grandchildren before I get old."

I blushed wildly. "We're just friends," I said. "It would be weird. Besides, I'm only 18-we both have plenty of time before I'm stuck at home with kids."

"You're seeing someone else, aren't you?" Dad asked. I made a face-Dad was really perceptive, especially when it came to me. He pretty much saw through me.

"Kind of," I admitted. "We're not together, but we're not _not_ together, either." I smiled despite myself and looked at my mom. "He's mine, but he's not my boyfriend. The long distance thing, you know..."

"Are you gonna get married, sissy?" David asked loudly when we got to the car. My mom buckled him into the booster seat as I stuck my luggage in the trunk and climbed into the backseat with him.

"No, I'm not gonna get married, you goober," I said with a laugh.

"Good," David said matter-of-factly. "You gotta wait for me to get married. We're gonna get married at the same time."

"We are?" I said in amusement.

" _Yes_ ," he said, turning in his seat to look at me. "We _are_."

I laughed to myself, shaking my head. Even if Kenny and I _were_ dating (even though we weren't, we were just on a break but he was still mine, goddammit) he wasn't the marrying kind, and I was okay with that. My parents chuckled from the front seat, pulling out of the Atlanta airport to make the trip to our small town back in the sticks.

My parents asked how the trip was, did I have fun, all the typical questions parents usually ask their kids when they're away for a while. I told them about most of what happened ( of course leaving out all the drama between Kenny and I-they didn't need to know I was sexually active, they were my _parents_ for God's sake), and told them about Clover. My mother teared up when I told her how wildly successful we were when we sang, and how much I'd miss Clover even though she was a raging bitch when we first met.

"Have you thought about going on one of those talent TV shows?" Mom asked. "You know, you'd probably make it up there."

I shook my head. "Nah, I was fine performing for a little town, not millions of people all over America. Besides, I don't think Clover would be into that kinda thing, either."

"Okay, dear," she said.

"I'll go with you, sissy. You c'n hold my hand."

I smiled at my brother. "You're sweet. But I'm fine. I'm going to go to school here, remember?"

"Oh yeah," he said, his eyes brightening almost as if a light bulb had gone off in his head.

I excused myself to my room when I got home, wanting to just relax a little bit after the events of the afternoon. I flopped down on my bed, pulling my phone out of my pocket and calling Kenny like I'd promised. "Hey, babe," he said.

"Hey, I'm home."

"I'm gonna come kidnap your ass," he said.

"I miss you too," I said with a laugh.

We chatted for a little while, even though I'd only been gone for a matter of hours. At the end of the conversation, we traded "I love you's" and hung up with promises of calling him tomorrow, before calling everyone else.

That night, I laid in bed, looking at all the pictures we'd taken and smiling to myself. I was going to miss hanging out with them in person-the internet just wasn't the same. I already couldn't wait to go back and chill with everyone again-especially Clover and Kenny. She bitched at me more over the phone when I'd called her earlier, but I knew that she would miss me. Sleep didn't come easy for me that night-I'd only been at Kenny's for about 3 nights, and I was already used to having someone to sleep with. It felt lonely in my big bed all by myself.

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It's almost over! There's just a couple more chapters until you catch up where I'm currently adding on and tying things up! I hope you've really enjoyed it so far and I hope that the other chapters (and part 2 when I begin posting that) don't disappoint! 3


	9. Chapter 9

Hey, all! Short chapter you enjoy!

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CHAPTER NINE

Clover's POV

...2 months later…

"Hey," I said softly, creeping into the unlocked window of the club. I wasn't _technically_ supposed to be here-that's to say I wasn't performing or practicing, so the doors weren't open to me or anyone else-but I _was_ , for Stan, and we'd been sneaking in the empty club at night when Stan got off work. His mother had hated me since that night she caught us together, and made it a point for Stan to avoid me at any cost. I didn't get it-I wasn't a bad person, I was _human_ , and sometimes we make mistakes. Not that fucking Stan was a mistake-getting caught was.

The only time we were able to see each other was right after Stan got off work, meeting at the club and going in for a few minutes of alone time. A lot of time that meant kissing, touching, and occasional sex, but we didn't like to waste a whole lot of time when we were together-the crazy bitch had gotten my phone number blocked so I couldn't even _talk_ to him.

He smiled at me tiredly, sitting in one of the chairs in a darker part of the club. "Hey."

"You look exhausted," I said, sitting beside him.

"I pulled a double today-and yesterday, and the day before that. I've almost got enough for the first two months, plus the deposit," he said. "I don't want you to have to worry."

"Stan, just tell me how much it is, and I can help you," I said. "You work too damn hard for me, sweetheart."

"Worth it," he grinned at me. "I want us to be living together by the end of the month."

I hugged him tightly. "I'll help you out. I made about $150 last night in tips."

"I don't want your money," he said.

"Take it," I insisted. "We'll be able to get moved in much faster if you'll accept my help."

"Didn't you want to give some to Kenny for Dahlia? So he'll shut the hell up?"

"Yeah," I laughed slightly. "But you're more important to me-if you work yourself to death trying to get into a place, then where will I be?" I looked at him. "I'll be in an apartment without you because you will have worked yourself too hard. Get some rest, take fewer shifts, and I'll take care of the rest. All I have to do is sing, which is so much simpler than what you're doing."

"Fine, fine," he waved it off. "I'll take the money." He stretched before standing.

"Don't tell me you have to leave already," I said, frowning.

"My mom's catching on," he said. "I can't stay as long as I normally do."

"Damn," I cursed. "I'll see how much I have saved, and give you all I can. You have to get out of that fucking house."

"Yeah," he said. He tipped my head back for a long, sweet kiss and smiled at me again.

I saw the bags under his eyes then and ran my fingers through his hair. "Get some sleep, babe, you look terrible."

He laughed. "Way to make me feel good," he said as I got up.

I shook my head, walking with him to the window. "I just meant that you need rest."

We left the club without another word, just kissing each other goodbye and making our way to our respective houses. I looked behind me with a frown, watching him walk away and frowned. He had to get away from her, and I planned to make it happen.

* * *

The next day I showed up in front of the grocery store with an envelope in my hand containing half of the money to my name, and I was hoping enough for Stan to make the deposit on the apartment he was looking at for us. It would be three-bedroom-we talked about inviting Kenny to come live with us, especially since we thought it may help him (and the extra room would be nice for company). It was like he'd been in a funk since Dahlia left. It got a little better, but the guy was acting like she was dead, and it was fucking _annoying_. Of course, we expected him to help with the rent, but most of all we just wanted him back to _normal_. Or, as normal as he could be.

Stan was just getting off work, and we met outside the front. I handed him the envelope without a word and waited for him to open it. "I can't take this, Clover."

"You can, and you will," I said. "You have to get out of that goddamn house. You're working too hard for me and I feel bad making all this easy money and you not accepting it. So I figured this would give us enough to make the deposit and go ahead and get the place."

"Today?"

"I don't see why not-it's not like we can move in today but if we can just get our foot in the door, that would be fucking awesome," I said. "Stan, you don't know what your mom's doing to you. You're stressing too damn much and you'll go gray before you hit 30 if you keep it up." I shook my head when he opened his mouth to protest. "I don't want to hear it. If you don't keep that money, I'll be pissed."

It took him a while to say anything, but he finally smiled at me and nodded. "Let's go. Get in the car, I'm not going straight home today. We're going to get us a place."

I whooped in happiness, hugging him as we reached his car and got inside.

We were cleared to move in whenever we got ready to-they had available apartments, so we were going to pack our shit and _go._ I was as ready as he was to live together-we'd only been together a few short months but there was something about our relationship that told me he'd be around for a long, long time. Maybe even marriage…? Nah. The thought made me shudder. I wasn't the marrying kind, not right now.

The first person Stan called to tell the good news was Kenny-even if we didn't have our shit moved in, _he_ could go ahead and go-he didn't have a whole lot to move. I was going to give him my old bed (not like I'd really be needing it if Stan and I were living together), and the rest of his stuff was pretty much clothes and bits and pieces of random things. He wasn't worried about a whole lot of possessions, since most of it was broken or from his childhood-and for some unexplained reason (at least to me), he _hated_ his childhood.

He was excited, glad to be out of the ragged 4 walls of his house, away from his drunks of parents. The only person he was concerned about was his sister Karen, but she seemed to stay away from the house as much as she could, so he had a little peace of mind. He made the promise to us to meet us later on the next day to look at the place, decide who got what room, and get moved in. He'd mentioned Dahlia a few times, and we knew what was on his mind-he was going to get her as soon as he had the money to. He'd been working with me off and on to gain tips-the guy had a _voice_. After all the arrangements were made, Stan hung up and drove me to my house, dropping me off in front. With a smile and a kiss, I went inside to begin packing.

* * *

"Tablecloth, my dear," I said jokingly to Dahlia over the phone. "How are you?"

"Better if you don't call me that," She said and I could hear her rolling her eyes. "What's up?"

"Well, I have good news. We got a place," I told her with a smile.

She let out a happy little yelp. "Congrats! I'm happy for you guys!" She giggled. "What do Stan's parents think about it?"

"Thing is, they don't know yet. I mean, they know he's working his ass off but they don't know we've got the place yet. I think we're going to tell his mom today," I replied. "Assuming she'll even listen at all-she fucking hates me."

"I'm sorry," Dahlia said sincerely. "You'll have to let me know how it goes."

"Yeah, I will," I said. "Oh yeah, and your boyfriend's gonna be staying with us, too."

"That's great! He's trying harder than ever to get me to come see you guys again, especially now that he knows I don't start school until the spring-the college got shit all kinds of fucked up and I have to wait. I wish I'd have known that while I was visiting," she said. "I miss you guys really bad."

"Yeah, well I can't say nobody misses you, either," I said. "Our gigs just aren't the same anymore."

"You have no idea how bad I want to come back," she said. "My parents can tell I'm fucking miserable."

"So ditch the school and come back."

"I wish it was that easy," she said, then let out a resigned sigh. "Let me save some money to get started on...I'm not sure I'd be able to concentrate on school."

"That's the spirit," I said. I wasn't really _trying_ to talk her out of school, but at this point, I'd do _anything_ to get Kenny back to normal. I hated to say it but I even missed his lecherous personality. It was a damn sight better than this mopey bullshit he had going on.

She laughed. "I'll see what I can do. I have to get a job first."

"If you came back here now, you'd have a job. Singing with me. That's your job."

She laughed again. "Sure, sure. Look, I'll talk to you later. You need to be packing, and I need to be babysitting-my parents left me alone with my 4 year old brother, and he's a terror."

"Yeah, I'll talk to you later," I said with a grin, hanging up the phone. I smiled to myself. Now that we'd gotten _that_ straightened out, the real fun could start. All Kenny was waiting on was the okay for him to go and get her, and off he'd go.

"You're leaving _now_?" Stan's mother asked as we walked in together and told her of our plans. "You have work tomorrow, don't you?"

"Nope," he said. "They let me have a day off to move my stuff."

"Just think about what you're getting yourself into," she said, her voice pleading.

"I'm not a bad person, Mrs. Marsh," I said as politely as I could. "I love your son very much. He's not making a mistake."

"I don't know that," she said.

"Mom, don't hold out hope that me and Wendy will ever get back together. We _won't_ , and the sooner you realize it, the better off you'll be," Stan said. He took my hand. "I love her too, and she makes me happy."

"Stan, just _look_ at her. She has all those piercings, wears that black, has a crappy attitude, and I just don't think she's good for you," she said, looking at me.

"With _all_ due respect, Mrs. Marsh," I began. "You have no way of knowing what kind of person I am. You're judging the outside before you get to know who I really am, and to be honest? It bothers me that you hate me just because you found him and I in an inappropriate position. Should we have been doing that? Maybe not, but we were and we can't go back and change it. We can move on, though, and you should really let that go. I'm going to be in your son's life whether you'd like me to or not and honestly we should try to get along."

She didn't look like she knew what to say, so Stan was the next one to speak up. "Mom, Clover's a great girl. A little rough around the edges, and not Wendy, but I really do love her. You should give her a chance-I think you'd like her more than you think."

"Sharon, she's really cool," Randy piped in, walking in the room with us. "She's gonna take me to get something, I don't know what."

Sharon merely rolled her eyes. "I guess if she means that much to you I can _try_."

Stan smiled at his mother. "That's all I'm asking."

At that, we walked upstairs to let Stan's parents argue over whether or not Randy was going to go to the tattoo shop I frequented (not necessarily to get something done, but I had friends there). I picked up a couple boxes to load up in the car, Stan following me. We'd be in our new apartment _tonight_ , and I was fucking _stoked._

* * *

Three days later, Randy was with us at the shop after telling Sharon he was going out with the guys (i.e, at the bar drinking, not out with us getting God knows what done-he wasn't telling us but we weren't asking either, both Stan and I were afraid of what he may say). We went to the shop after showing off our new apartment-Kenny was already lounging around on the sofa flipping through channels on the TV-and I knew that Tuesdays were slow anyway, so why not go?

We walked in the doors, and I greeted the owner warmly-I'd been here so much I was pretty friendly with everybody, and the piercer walked over to say hello. She didn't have anyone in line next, and her next appointment was in a couple hours, so we looked at Randy. He nodded and we walked into the room only for him to lift his shirt and look at the lady. Both Stan and I looked at each other, mortified. He _couldn't_ mean…

"Your nipples?" the piercer, Alice, asked. Her voice had an amused lilt to it and I could tell she was trying not to laugh.

"Do it," he said, nodding.

"Oh, my God, my mother is going to kill him," Stan whispered to me.

I excused myself before leaving the room to bust out laughing. Stan followed me and I looked at him. " _Seriously_? Your dad's _really_ going to get a _nipple_ piercing? Does he not realize how fucking bad that'll hurt?!" I kept my voice down-the walls weren't soundproof by any means.

"He's paying…" Stan said. He looked a little green. "Dude, I don't know if I can watch."

"I don't know if I want to, either," I said, shaking my head.

Upon walking into the room, we saw that Alice had already gotten started, and preferred us not to leave. We shut the door behind us, and waited for the first scream.

Thirty minutes later, Randy had tearstains on his face but sported two fancy rings on his chest. He paid the owner, while I apologized profusely to Alice about having to pierce him. She laughed, assuring me that he wasn't the _worst_ customer she'd ever pierced (not that it made me feel much better), and clapped me on the shoulder with a laugh. I smiled at her as Stan and I walked out, following Randy to his car. The trip to his house was short, and Sharon was on the couch in her robe when we came in. She greeted us tiredly, before noticing how obviously red Randy's face was. She looked at him with a raised brow. "Have you been _crying_?"

"No, dude, I'm cool, dude," he said quickly, trying to brush her question off.

She wasn't buying it. "Randy Marsh, what the hell have you done this time?"

When he tentatively held his shirt up for her to see, she flipped the fuck out, looking at me. " _You_ talked him into this, didn't you?!"

"It's not her fault," Stan said. "We had no idea what Dad planned until we walked in. So if you're going to bitch at anyone, bitch at him."

At that point, I thought it was high time to go home, and I made my way out.

* * *

Alrighty, you're all caught up with me! Meaning, I'll get Chapter 10 up once I get all the loose ends tied up. Thank you so much for reading!


	10. Chapter 10

This chapter is super short, because I couldn't decide whether I wanted to finish in this chapter or the next. I opted for the next chapter. Enjoy!

* * *

CHAPTER TEN

Dahlia's POV

It was my birthday.

19 years old, time to grow up-it was my last teen year. Not that it mattered-I was considered an adult the minute I turned 18 anyway. It was going to be a small birthday this year, with only my parents and David, and I was happy with it that way. I had hoped that I'd have had the money to go to South Park and spend with everyone, but jobs just hadn't panned out for me in the last month and I hadn't yet had an _interview_. I had been a good girl, taken my piercings out to look for jobs, but I wasn't stupid enough to let them grow back-I loved my jewelry and that's what made me...y'know... _me._

So imagine my face when, just as I'm blowing out the number 19 candle on the half-sheet cake they'd gotten me, Kenny comes waltzing in my front door like he owned the place and grabbed me from behind, hugging me so hard I couldn't _breathe_ and whispering things in my ear that would have had my mother bitching at him had she heard. I let out a little half-assed yelp and turned around just for him to kiss me like there was no tomorrow, making my parents laugh in amusement, albeit a little uncomfortably. It took me a full minute to realize, yes, this _was_ my boyfriend _in my house_ , kissing me with promises to never let me go again. I smiled at him, throwing my arms around him.

"Mom, Dad, this is Kenny," I said after the initial shock was over and I could think properly. "He's my...well...boyfriend, I guess."

"Nice to meet you," he said politely, which is the most polite I'd ever heard the lecherous blond. "Your daughter is somethin' else, let me tell you…I was head over fu-" He noticed David there, so changed his wording. "Fricking heels for this girl from the moment I met her."

"She loves you too," My mother said, further embarrassing me. "She's not been the same since she left South Park."

Kenny laughed. "Is that right?"

"Hush," I groaned, hiding my face in my hands.

"Well, if it's okay with the two-ahem, _three_ -of you, I'd like to take this gorgeous lady home with me. I'll take good care of her," he said, and I didn't miss the underlying innuendo there. My parents, however, did, and I was _so_ relieved.

"Well, you know that's our daughter," my dad said. "Are you going to be staying in the same house?"

Kenny held his hands up. "We're rooming with someone else-Dahlia's friend Clover. We've discussed rooming and I think Dahlia's staying with Clover in her room."

My dad looked at Kenny hard after that for a long while and finally nodded. "I'll trust you for now, boy. If I find out anything happens to my daughter, your blood will be on my hands."

I winced, knowing what my dad said was the truth. Even knowing that Kenny couldn't _really_ die didn't help anything-my dad would kill him over and over and over again. It was something that I didn't exactly want to live through so many times, so I'd definitely make Kenny be a good boy. He took it well, smiling and nodding. "I wouldn't let anything happen to her-she means a lot to me." He looked at me then, patting my back. "You wanna go grab the stuff you need? I mean to take you back with me tonight."

I stared at him for a moment in dumbfounded silence and nodded before racing to my room to grab the essentials-phone charger, wallet, that kind of thing. My heart was racing and I could barely keep my hands from shaking. This, _by far_ , was the best birthday I'd ever had. I couldn't wait to be back in South Park, and so I tried to hurry.

"Come on, slowpoke," My dad called teasingly. I picked up a couple of duffel bags and stuffed what clothes I could in them-mostly winter clothes, cause I knew it got freezing-ass-cold up in Colorado, and it was the middle of November. I may have been excited but I wasn't stupid and needed to grab what warm clothes I could manage to pack. After a moment or two of that, Kenny walked into my room, knocking on the doorframe as he passed by and flopping down on my bed.

"So this is what your room looks like," he said thoughtfully, looking at the ceiling. "Never thought I'd be seein' the inside of _this_ place. Not after…" He let the sentence trail. "Well, you know."

I shrugged, looking up from the bag I was packing. "My room's nothing special. And for the record, it was really hard to stay mad at you. You're a great serenader." I laughed a little.

"If you think that shitty singing was good, you should have heard me at the gigs with Clover. I had women asking for autographs," he drawled.

"You lie," I said, narrowing my eyes at him.

He sat up, raising his hands in mock innocence. "They did! Honest!"

I rolled my eyes, zipping the bag I was packing and throwing it at him. "Well, I hope that's _all_ they asked for."

"I've been a good boy," he said. "I told them I had you. And so did Clover. And then she threatened my balls."

I busted out laughing. "That sounds like her."

"So are you gonna get ready or are you gonna just sit here and talk to me all night?" he asked, then laughed when I flipped him off. I picked up the first duffel bag and my necessities and walked downstairs as he followed me with the other two I'd haphazardly packed.

My mom was holding the cake out to me, smiling. "Here, you take this with you. It's yours, after all. Celebrate with your friends."

"Are you sure?" I asked. "Get some for you guys and David, at least."

She laughed, shaking her head. "Nope, David doesn't need any sugar tonight, and if you're planning on being on the road tonight, you need to get going." I could tell she was trying not to cry. "Be safe."

"You know I will, Mom," I said with a smile of my own. I gave her a hug and took the cake from her hands. David about tackled my legs and I hugged him tightly. "Be good, squirt. I'll see you."

"Oookay," he said with a frown.

My dad walked us out to the car and after a slightly tearful goodbye on both our ends, I was on my way back to South Park. Albeit a little sad, this was by far the best birthday I'd ever had, and I wouldn't change it for the world. Who knew that what started as a World of Warcraft friendship would turn into _this_? I looked at Kenny and smiled, putting my hand into his. I was going to a place that felt more like home than my actual home...and I couldn't _wait_ to get there.

* * *

The next chapter will hopefully be up soon! I don't have a lot of time to write lately-I have 2 tiny humans to tend to, and that takes up most of my time. But don't worry-I'm working on it when I have the chance, even if it is just a paragraph at a time! :) I hope you like it! Thank you for reading 3!


	11. Chapter 11

HI! I finally return with the final chapter of this story! I apologize for the brief hiatus-life got in the way and I spend most of my "free time" sleeping or baking. So, I hope you enjoy this chapter!

* * *

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Dahlia's POV

The moment I saw Clover again, I let out a banshee screech and flew at her, nearly tackling her to the floor in my excitement as I buried my face in her shoulder. "I missed you!"

"Happy birthday, asshole," she said good-naturedly as a neighbor banged on the wall for us to get quiet. I could hear the grumbling, and from the way it sounded we were going to be living by old people... _oh boy._ "So, what'd you think when he came strolling into your house? Did he even bother to knock?"

"You do realize who we're talking about, right?" I asked, and it was all I needed to say.

"Of course not," She said, answering her own question with a laugh. "Goddamn, I'm glad you're back."

"You have no idea," I said, flopping back on the new couch that sat in the living room. I ran my fingers over the suede and smiled. It was comfortable, for sure, and knew Clover hadn't bought anything cheap for their—our—apartment. "So, when's your next gig? I'd like to show up as a surprise. Assuming I still have fans after that shitshow went down and I had to bail."

"Oh, you do. And so does your boyfriend," she said. She walked to her bedroom to retrieve her phone, running a hand through her hair as she sat down beside me on the couch. "Well, I've got something available next week if you want to practice. Kenny's already made plans to help me out, so you guys can do a thing together."

"Ah, yeah! That would be perfect!" I said excitedly.

She grinned at me. "It'd be pretty hot, yeah?" She jerked a thumb toward the room that Kenny had dragged himself off to after arriving—we'd been driving almost constantly for the last two days (of course, we'd had to stop around halfway through, the drive was nearly 24 hours straight), and that was only a one-way trip. After spending the better part of a week just driving, the poor guy was exhausted. "That one's been talking almost non-stop about getting you back in bed with him once he got you home."

 _Home_ had a nice ring to it, I thought before answering her. "That doesn't surprise me." I laughed to myself as I looked toward the door. "Honestly, I'm glad he was too tired. I'm ready for bed, myself."

"You seem like you're fucking full of energy," she snorted at me. "With the way you launched yourself at me when you walked in the door."

I rubbed the back of my neck sheepishly. "Yeah..."

She patted the top of my head. "Go ahead and get your ass in bed, Tablecloth. We're not going anywhere."

I grinned at her, waving as I walked into the room I was to share with Kenny.

* * *

"Wake up, you bum,"Clover griped at me the next afternoon, standing over my side of the bed with a rolled-up piece of paper. "Sheesh, you'd think that after 10 hours of sleeping you'd wake up."

I groaned and looked at her, rolling over to notice I was in bed alone. I blinked for a moment. "Wait, what time is it?"

"It's one. In the afternoon. Get your ass out of bed." She grinned at me, letting me know she was joking, and I sat up. "If you're planning to practice with me, you better get dressed now. I don't have the place as often now, even with all the money I'm bringing in."

"Does this have to do with your breaking in...?" I asked, raising an eyebrow as I grabbed a brush from a nearby duffel bag and ran it through my long hair. "Because I recall you telling me that you would sneak in to spend time with Stan."

"Heh," she said, rubbing the back of her neck sheepishly. "It may or may not have something to do with me sneaking in. He was a little pissed that I hadn't okayed it with him—it _would_ have been okay but now I'm 'grounded'."

"Right," I said with a crooked grin at her. "So how long are you grounded for? Until you bribe him to give you a key, right?"

"You know me too well," she said, pinching my cheek before walking to the doorway. "Okay, since you're up we'll be leaving shortly. Kenny is stuffing his face in the kitchen, so I suggest you hurry if you wanna eat."

I laughed. "Alright, alright, I'm comin'."

Once I was dressed and ready, I decided to skip breakfast in favor of practicing—I was too damn excited to eat, honestly—and we were off to the club we used to sing for. I looked at the microphones on stage, and noticing they were the same ones Clover and I had used the last time we performed together, I ran to the stage to touch one. Clover and Kenny laughed at me, but I didn't care—it was so fucking nice to be back.

"So," Clover started, sitting down at a nearby table, smoothing her dress out as she did so. "You guys. What are you gonna do?"

"Wait, we're gonna do something together?" Kenny asked me. "Hot damn, I'm in."

"...Yeah,we kind of figured you would be," Clover said, deadpan, as she rolled her eyes.

"Love song?" I suggested, and both of them looked at me as if I'd lost my mind. "Never mind."

"Do something a little more fun than a love song," Kenny said to me.

"Like what, exactly?" I raised an eyebrow at him. "Anything specific in mind?"

"Not a specific song, but you remember that last performance you did when you left?"

"Mm, that's not one I'm likely to forget. You're saying you want to do something like that?" I grinned in spite of myself. "Sorry, darlin', I don't think you'd look quite as pretty as I did in that dress."

He snorted before grinning himself. "I'm willing to bet I would, if you are," he said with a wink at me.

I held a hand up, shaking my head. "I think I'll pass." He laughed and patted my head before I swatted at him and continued speaking. "So? What are you planning?"

"I want a performance like that. But...on me. You know." The corner of his mouth tipped up in a grin. "What do you say?"

"That sounds like it could get dirty," Clover said, shaking her head. "I don't think so."

"Why not? Jealous?"

"Hell no, I just don't want people to leave," she said with a grin. "Look, I know we do some dirty dancing but the two of you look at each other and clothes go flying."

"You're exaggerating," I said with a laugh. "Believe it or not, Clover, I do have some self-control."

"Yeah, but I never said it was you I was worried about," she said pointedly.

"Ah. Right," I said. "Well, I guess it's up to Kenny to behave himself until we at least get back home."

"I got it, I got it," he said. "Do I need to swear on a bible or somethin'?"

"...Not unless you think you need to," I said, snickering to myself.

He rolled his eyes. "I can behave myself."

Laughing, we discussed what to do, and four hours later, we had finally picked a song to begin practicing to, just before we were ushered out for the evening. Clover huffed, but did as she was asked-she didn't want to lose the place altogether, of course-and as we walked home, we discussed our plans for the next four days. Day one-tomorrow-would be practicing lyrics, getting them down while Clover practiced the actual guitar music. Days two and three would be pretty much the same, and Day Four would be the actual performance day. The only day that was available to rehearse at the bar would be day 4, so we just planned to be there all day. We'd bring our performance clothes-there was no way in hell I was walking around in 30-degree weather in a skirt and tanktop-and change just before the gig started at 5pm. I'd have to get back in the swing of things, but I was ready-this was a start of a new and hopefully wildly successful chapter in life, and I was going to face it head on.

* * *

"I'm nervous."

"That's not like you," Clover said, patting my shoulder. "Chill out, Tablecloth."

"Yeah, I know," I said, shaking my arms to emulate shaking nerves off. It seemed to help and I smiled at her. "Just gotta get back in the rhythm."

"Mm," she said. She tossed a look at the blonde who was fussing with his deliberately-messy hair. "I think it's got something to do with that one."

"Heh," I chuckled. "Probably. I'm just hoping he doesn't embarrass me."

"After as many times as you've been embarrassed in front of this town, I'd figure you'd be used to it by now," she said, and I laughed.

"I guess you're right." I took a deep breath and grinned at her, throwing my hair into a messy ponytail. "Thanks, Clover."

"Eh, don't worry about it," she said with a smile at me. "You ready?"

"It's now or never," I said with a nod, and the three of us walked up to the stage to greet the crowd that had gathered to see who they thought was only going to be Clover and Kenny. Their faces registered surprise when they saw me, but I didn't feel unwelcome. I had a few people yell at me and wave, and felt way more comfortable than I had before. I was surprised to see Kyle's face in the crowd and made a mental note to go see him once the show was over.

Clover did the opening, re-introducing me to those who were new in the crowd, and asking those that did know me to give me a warm welcome, as I'd be returning to the group, and for good. The crowd let out whistles with their applause, and we began as rehearsed, first singing a few songs—with my normal running around to engage the audience—before going into the duet Kenny and I were to sing. The song started and we faced each other. Our voices seemed to blend much better than they had in rehearsal, and I lost myself in the lyrics, getting very close to him, letting him run his hand up my side and dancing away when he started to get too naughty. We ended the song in each other's arms, the crowd applauding like crazy and Clover ending the show with some laughter.

Kenny dragged me off the stage, and once we got to the hallway behind it, pinned me up against the wall with his kisses. I didn't mind, returning the kiss as I tugged on his hair and laced a few fingers in his belt loops. "Mm," he started, pulling back for a split second. "Dahlia, I got an idea."

"If it's anything other than this, keep it to yourself," I muttered.

"Let's go to the closet," he said.

"...Kenny, I don't feel like that's a good idea."

He grinned at me, blue eyes twinkling. "It's related to kissing you." He pulled me toward the closet. "Come on. Just a quickie."

I laughed, walking with him. "This is an awful idea. What if we get caught?"

"I have literally never gotten caught," he said as he pulled me into the small janitor's closet and pulled the chain to the dim light in it. "Ain't even gotta lock it."

I tossed a glance over my shoulder. "...The lock is already broken..."

He buried his fingers in my ponytail as he kissed me again. "Even better."

As luck would have it, as we begun to get down and dirty, my skirt hiked up around my hips and my shirt nearly off, the door opened. I scrambled, straightening the various items of clothing and pushing him back into a shelf. I turned, my face burning in a blush, to see Clover and...oh, God, no. This was not good.

Not. Good. At. All.

"Hi, Dahlia...your parents wanted to find you," Clover said slowly, but I could tell by the tone of her voice that she was about to burst into uncontrollable laughter.

"Hi. I'm here. Not exactly ideal for meeting," I said. "What are you guys even _doing_ here? You didn't tell me you were coming!"

"I did tell you we had a surprise for you, didn't I?" My mother said, her face as red as mine, but she didn't seem angry. My father, on the other hand...

"Yeah, back in _September_ , which you never did tell me about..."

"We were planning to move here! We were on our way to Denver to finish setting the house up so we could fly Grandma and David out here! Since you moved back here before we could tell you, we decided to surprise you." She tittered in spite of the situation. "However, we didn't expect to find you in a closet with your boyfriend."

"You're comin' home with me, young lady," my dad ground out in his anger. "You're getting your ass _in my car_ and you're livin' in Denver. None'a this, livin' with this pervert bullshit."

"Now, now," my mother said softly, as I noticed Clover sneaking away, shoulders shaking in her laughter. "Dear, she's a teenager, out on her own for the first time. You can't expect her to follow _all_ our rules."

He huffed at her as Kenny pushed me out of the closet. He scratched the back of his head. "Ah...That's my fault, sir."

Again, my dad stayed quiet, and I was glad for it. My mother smiled at me, then looked at Kenny. "I'll let this time slide, Kenny...But remember, I don't think there will be a next time."

"Yes ma'am. I can only get so lucky once," he said with a wink at her.

"Son, don't push your luck," my dad said, seeing the wink.

Clover's laugh echoed down the hallway. After a few more minutes of this agonizing awkwardness, we walked back to the front of the building with my parents, and out to the car. My mother told us to visit, since they weren't but a couple hours away now, and they'd be by to check on us every now and then. After a few hugs and threats (those courtesy of my overprotective father), they were on their way, and so were we.

If this was the way it was going to be, being back in this town with these people, I wouldn't want it any other way.

* * *

I hope you enjoyed it. It seemed to end rather abruptly, but honestly, I ran out of ideas to drag it out. Don't forget, I have a part 2 in the works, and I am hoping to set some time aside to get a little more done before I share it with you all. Thank you so much if you stuck around with me through all the chapters, and I hope you liked it! Until next time~


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